


beyond the veil

by dachenabritta



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Finnish Folklore, Little Mermaid Elements, Modern, Oregon - Freeform, Sailing, ben solo the businessman, folklore: mermaids, frigid pacific ocean, leia really is GOAT, lots of swimming, mean fisherman, mermaid au, mermaid!rey, slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24195847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dachenabritta/pseuds/dachenabritta
Summary: Deep within the waters of the Oregon coast, a lone mermaid longs for the man she's watched for years.Her wish of joining him comes true but comes at a cost.Or: Rey is a mermaid in love with lonely businessman Ben
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 448
Kudos: 479





	1. valtameri: the ocean

**Author's Note:**

> As a native of the PNW, and a lover of mermaids and the culture surrounding them, this story is easily already one of my favorites. It's hybrid of Splash, The Little Mermaid and a touch of Sirens (all amazing media that I highly recommend watching) and of course, some good Reylo content! 
> 
> Enjoy!  
> DCB

_A mermaid has not an immortal soul,_

_nor can she obtain one unless she wins the love of a human being._

_On the power of another hangs her eternal destiny._

  
  
_Hans Christian Anderson_

○°°°○

The ocean is where the water meets the sun and the earth touches the sky.

Tranquil and quiet, it’s the home to an entire world of life, thriving below the roaring crests of waves and wind.

The ocean is not a mystery. She knows it quite well.

Born and raised within the confines of seawater, Rey knows the ocean better than herself. The saltwater runs through her blood and being, the call to her every instinct. Fable lead many merfolk to believe that they _themselves_ were the soul of the seas, giving voice to something that cannot speak.

Rey doesn’t hear of fables anymore. There are no fellow mermaids to pass down the stories and legends of their kind. She carries small, hazy memories of a pod, one that abandoned her years ago, that blur more and more as the years continue.

Mermaids are social creatures. This is difficult when you are a lone mermaid.

To entertain herself, Rey begins to watch the world around her. At a young age, she follows schools of salmon and herring to watch the funny way they swim. Most of the time, they venture far into the depths, away from the surface and away from the land. Periodically, the school brings her straight to the land dwellers.

It’s the natural instinct of all merfolk to be wary of the land dwellers.

Their nets and spears have killed many of her kind. They pollute her home with oil and their _things_. Their ships tear through untouched water, never intended for such intrusions. They are inherently viscous, manipulative creatures.

Rey knows this quite well, but curiosity overrules her fright, as usual.

Whether she’s under the docks of a human pod’s home or hiding behind the rocks at a beach or watching land dwellers eat with small utensils, guilt always nags the back of her skull. Every cell in her body says _no_ when she’s so close to the surface. _Danger_ her gut will sometimes whisper _they are dangerous._

For creatures so apparently merciless and crude, Rey begins to see compassion and warmth in their kind. She longs for the touch of another, like the mothers and children she’ll see playing at the shore or the feeling of dry hair that is not her own.

When the loneliness sometimes becomes too much to bear, Rey swims further up the coastline, just a mile north of the heavily populated land. Water swirls around her limbs as she flicks her golden tail, much quicker than her typical swimming pace.

The cliff she arrives to is nearly uninhabited save for the monstrous house that protrudes from the rocky slope. It’s white and hallow, with glass panes much larger than any land dweller requires. The house sits in silence besides the sound of waves lapping against the cliffside. An observation deck runs along the entirety of the bottom floor with silver wires hugging the glass floor and panels.

All in all, it’s a beautiful sight to float in front of and just stare. The most beautiful part of the house though, is not part of the architecture.

The land dweller who lives in said house only appears every few days, sometimes not for weeks. He’s a stark contrast to the otherwise bare and clinical backdrop of his own home. Black hair, dark clothes and a heavy demeanor. His pale, ivory skin seems to be the only characteristic that matches with the white mansion. A smile never crosses his features and neither does any other kind of emotion besides ardent passiveness.

He typically speaks into a box when home, pacing slowly from one end the deck to the other for hours, then back into the living area, then back out to the deck. Every once in a while, he rubs his eyes with a large hand and then gazes up to the sky, thoughtless.

Rey aimlessly wonders what his hands would feel like with hers or what lies in his life beyond the white walls of his house. No other human is ever with him.

Maybe that’s why Rey loves returning so much. He appears to be as lonely as she is.

Rey visits and observes. She watches the strange and handsome man for almost two years.

She still swims far outside her home shore every month or two, occasionally to visit the warmer southern waters and flip a few boards the land dwellers love to ride, or far, far north to watch the icebergs crumble and melt, shivering the whole time. The lengthy swimming is enjoyable and gives her fins a good stretch.

Rey wonders if the man travels anywhere. Maybe his scowl would disappear if he left the typically misty ocean of their cold climate and went south like she does, to the sun and salty air. She thinks this may be unlikely. His scowl is probably permanent to his face.

Mermaids are allowed to watch. They are never noticed.

So, she watches.

○°°°○

One dreary, spring afternoon, the tide changes.

Rey holds enough caution to hide behind rocks, under the house, beneath the dock or against the cliff when she visits the house. She’s been lucky enough to never be spotted, but that may in part be due to the man always too buried in thought to notice her anyways.

She decides to push her luck one afternoon. The mist swallows the base of the cliff and almost the entirety of the house, so dense that she will need to approach far closer than she’s ever been. His voice is low and rumbling, cutting through the thick mist. He’s speaking into the box. She can tell.

The confirmation of his voice is the only reason she knows he’s home. Swimming without sound and as little movement as she can help, Rey creeps to the absolute outskirts of the building, head directly below the observation deck he stands on. It takes all the strength in her tail and arms to keep her body steady and afloat, her head bobbing with the movement of the waves.

Rey is patient. She listens to him grumble and respond to someone, waiting for the fog to clear.

Sometimes, she _hates_ her territory. The cold and mist are annoying.

Her nerves nearly skyrocket when the silvery fog finally reveals the house and most importantly, _him._

Her sight immediately falls to his face.

_His face is leaking._

Well, she doesn’t really know what it’s called, or why the land dwellers do it whenever something happy or sad happens, but water is dripping down from his eyes onto his chest. His hand crumples tightly against his ear, as he answers calmly to a voice she cannot hear.

Rey purses her lips, feeling a little rude for snooping. She wants to know why his face screams despair, but his voice remains apathetic and frigid. This is the most emotion she’s ever witnessed from the man, the scene before her stopping her careful treading. Rey is spellbound, desperate to know what’s causing him such misery.

The spell is broken when her arms splash a little _too_ loudly.

He glances down through the glass floor, obviously hearing her movement, and looks directly at Rey’s frozen form.

_Danger. Danger. Danger._

The box he holds against his ear slips onto the deck as he continues to watch her, clattering loudly to the glass. His mouth opens with a silent _what?_

His entire body is rigid in shock. He locks eyes with her, and she stares straight back, awed by the moment of _being noticed._ It’s been two long years, and she’s finally seen.

Rey blinks, focusing on the current, threatening situation.

Her brain ceases its unproductive buzz, senses finally flooding back. Her arms thrash at the water, guiding her away from the house, from the man _who is still staring directly at her._

With one final, heart-swollen glance, Rey dives below the surface, swimming farther and farther to the seabed where no light can touch.

Her tail unknowingly breaches the water’s surface, gold flashing to the confused and bewildered man atop the cliffside house.


	2. muisto: a memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **CW: discussion of parent's death ******
> 
> We finally get into the head of our ever thick Ben. Lonely, (dumb) Ben...

Ben Solo is tired.

He’s particularly tired today.

Fridays are supposed to be the days of fun and leisure. _Thank God it’s Friday._ Isn’t that the saying? He should look forward to the weekend, look forward to a break.

A break is a precious commodity to Ben, and it has been since he became recent president of First Order Trade and Insurance. Weeks of meeting and calls bleed into months of exhausting trips, then into years of unrewarding work. Sure, the money is good. Great, in fact. He can afford not only the apartment in downtown Portland, but his apartment near the Seattle office and his parent’s endowed home along the Cannon Beach cliffside.

Three properties (two being penthouses) and a mansion along the golden coast is not enough for him. Neither is his hefty salary. Nothing is enough for him.

His eyes lazily fall onto the bookshelf across from his desk, lost in thought and skim the untouched books likely covered in years of dust. Just for a minute, he needs to zone out. Just a minute to sit and _breathe._

A moment passes. No one barges in to bitch about the Abbott case.

Another moment passes. Hux doesn’t knock on the door to inform him that the Bradshaw family report is late, _again._

_Just…a moment._

The phone abruptly rings, shattering the few seconds of previous peace.

With a sigh, he picks up his office landline, and keys in his passcode. It’s probably the Mellon Capital lawyers calling again, assholes set on making every case he works on a nightmare. He takes an additional breath before hitting the final key to patch his secretary to him.

“Mr. Solo? There’s a woman on line two wanting to speak to you” his secretary says, grainy through the phone.

…woman? Ben was confident that the group of attorneys at Mellon Capital who bugged him were primarily male, but maybe there was a woman he missed on his last business trip.

He clears his throat. “Did she give a name? Or what company she’s with?”

“No, sir. She says it’s quite urgent, though.”

Now Ben really had _no_ idea who this was. “Alright, patch her through. Make sure the call is monitored. We can’t have another Bancorp incident.”

“Right away, sir”. The line goes silent for a moment, the call redirecting to him.

Maybe it’s the Abbott family again, calling to demand more money after their initial life insurance quota wasn’t _appreciated._ He really can’t handle any more problems today, especially those snobby _buffoons_. 

A quiet voice speaks first. “Ben?”

A heartbeat. This is not a business call. 

“Mom?”

□■■■□

Learning about a parent’s death is one of the worst things capable of happening to anyone. Learning about a parent’s death over the _phone_ from your estranged mother that refused to speak to you for eight or so years, _is worse._

_Way, way_ worse.

Although Ben hadn’t been close to either his mother or father for years, hearing the news about his father’s heart attack and sudden death hit a cord deep within Ben, a feeling he’d tried to prevent by becoming a soulless workaholic whose value in other humans dwindled and faded the longer he worked.

The chaotic half-walk, half-mad dash from his private office down to the skyscraper’s parking garage was a blur, memories of his father flooding his vison no matter what else he thought of. Images of the ocean, sailing, late nights on the beach and his mother’s smile tormenting him, mocking a life he chose to leave behind.

Now it was the only thing he wants. Ben needs to see the ocean.

The drive from Portland to Cannon Beach isn’t that long, typically an hour and a half, but that’s an hour and a half _too_ long as he sits in his black BMW, thrumming nervous fingers against the steering wheel.

_Your father was in his shop, working on some new project of his._

Ben isn’t sure that the light he just drove through was yellow or red.

_I didn’t see or hear anything. I thought he was just thinking what to work on next._

He doesn’t bother with turn signals, knowing full well how dangerous that is.

_When I finally realized something was wrong, he had collapsed on the ground and…he wasn’t breathing._

The tires of his car screech along the damp road that winds up the cliff, the scent of the ocean now filling his senses.

_Ben…I tried everything. I-I called 911 but it was too late. I even tried CPR for an hour until the ambulance came._

His house is clear into view now. The massive, bleach white building stands proud and peacefully within the confines of the cliff’s fog.

_I’m so sorry, Ben. Your father is gone._

His mother’s voice echoes in his brain, a nightmarish loop that has played on repeat the entire drive home. He refuses to break or cry until he’s securely inside.

Ben is a man of power. He is the president of a fortune 500 company. He doesn’t require or deserve emotions. He deals with way worse shit before his daily morning coffee.

But even the most powerful of men crumble time to time.

A heavy sob wracks through Ben as he finally closes the front door, head and vision perched down to the pristine white flooring. He shucks off his jacket and shoes, drops his bag with no care and heads straight to the deck.

The balcony overlooks the Oregon coastline, giving the viewer one of the most spectacular sights of the roaring Pacific Ocean. Today, a dense fog enraptures the typically clear outlook, but the cold and crisp still calms him.

Ben takes several deep breaths, quiet tears rolling down his long face as the news of today truly hits him. His heart squeezes painfully, his breath shortening again. He needs to stop thinking. His brain needs to _stop._

_Stop bringing every and any painful memory to the surface._

His phone begins to vibrate in his pocket and he thoughtlessly answers it, the habit of receiving thousands of phone calls still instilled, even away from the office. He prays to God it’s not his mother again.

“Mr. Solo?” A man’s voice. One he doesn’t recognize. “This is Mr. Antilles from Res Corp offices. We’ve received the news of your father’s untimely demise and want to extend our deepest condolences.”

Ben knows how these calls go. He can practically _see_ the script in front of Mr. Antilles. At least it’s not his mother.

“I’m calling in regard to your father’s will and last wishes, which are enlisted to you as executor of the will.” The lawyer sounds sympathetic with some words, but robotic with others. “Leia Organa-Solo, your mother, was offered to complete this process, but she informed us you were better prepared and more knowledgeable regarding your family’s estates and hereditary withholdings.”

_Of course, she dropped the responsibility of the will on him. Surprise, surprise._

“I understand”, Ben finally pipes out, voice smooth and professional. He just needs to take this call like he does every day. Calm and detached. “Do I need to physically file the will, or can the state’s probate allow me to over the phone?”

“Over the phone is legal but may be a little messy. It’s your decision.”

Ben doesn’t notice that tears are still dripping or that his nose is running.

_Stay professional, you big baby._

“I can come in-person for collection and distribution. I’ll have my secretary send all necessary files for beginning the process until I can drive over.”

“That would be best, Mr. Solo.”

More tears keep falling.

And the lawyer keeps speaking.

“There’s also the matter of your father’s… _excessive_ flotilla. There’s a massive portion of Wheeler’s Marina in Cannon Beach that belongs to your father and your non-biological uncle.”

The lawyer’s voice drones on and on, becoming as lulling as the fog before him.

“We will need a physical signature and proof of a sailing license but that can all be discussed later.”

Ben feels his eyes begin to glaze over and mesmerized by the ocean and cold, sticky air.

If he wishes hard enough, maybe the ocean will rise and swallow him.

A slight splashing below the glass deck catches his attention.

“If you could email our firm any documents pertaining to….”

Ben stops listening to the call, aimlessly looking past his feet down to the ocean’s surface below. His body goes completely still when he catches what is causing the noise.

His phone unwillingly slips from his hand and crashes onto the glass, voice quiet and wavering, almost at a whisper.

“ _What?”_

There is someone, more precisely a _woman._ A _beautiful_ woman, floating beneath the belly of his house, just watching him with blown eyes, mirroring the same look of shock.

Ben can’t look away. She doesn’t look away. They just stare at each other for several, weighted seconds.

He wracks his brain, trying to remember if he’s ever seen surfers or divers around this side of the cliff. The water is too rocky for recreational swimming.

Should he call someone? The coast guard? Does he need to borrow a faraway neighbor’s rowboat and rescue her? She doesn’t appear to be drowning.

His thoughts cease when she begins to swim away from her spot, alarm crossing her soft, hazel features.

The woman turns and dives back into the rocky waters, breaking Ben out of the trance she'd held. Though the mist, it’s difficult to watch her glide below the waves.

As he watches her, something catches his eye on the water’s surface. And his breath.

A tail, a _fish tail_ to be precise, whips into the icy air just long enough for Ben to realize he’s not imagining it.

□■■■□

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though it was nearly 15 years ago, I still remember every second of the phone call I had with my mom when she called to tell me my dad was half-dead in an ambulance. 
> 
> It's a tough thing, losing or nearly losing a parent. Sorry to anyone who has gone through the same experience, just remember solitude is v bad when coping and there will always be someone there for you. 
> 
> ♡DCB


	3. laiva: the ship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you THANK YOU to everyone who read, kudo'd, commented and bookmarked!! I've never had such a reaction to a story before! I try to respond to every comment so never hesitate to speak your mind 
> 
> ALSO a few people asked about an update schedule. I don't have one (as of now) but I am aiming to finish this fic in May for Mermay2020.
> 
> Enjoy 😘  
> DCB

_3 weeks later_

□■■■□

The grief comes in waves now, much like the ocean, ebbing and flowing through daily life.

Since he’s president of his company, the request of 3 weeks’ vacation isn’t absurd or unjustifiable. It’s the ass-kissing to the CEO, the _begging_ Ben practically had to do in order to have a break, that is absurd.

Ben does not expect to mourn the eventual death of Andrew Snoke.

The time off _does_ help with the healing process. Work is going to be a bitch once he returns. He can already hear Hux demand the July projections, furious that he needed _three whole damn weeks to mourn a man he never cared for_.

Maybe Ben won’t mourn Hux either. God knows he’ll be the one to outlive him.

His mother is planning on visiting a friend this upcoming week, right as Ben’s mourning time-off comes to an end. She hasn’t forgiven him yet, even with the many phone calls and shared tears, but their relationship is finally growing rather than deteriorating.

His mother becomes a good distraction. She now calls him every other day, either from boredom or genuine care. Ben hasn’t decided.

It is a nice feeling though; he really _did_ miss his mom’s voice, no matter how much he denies to himself.

She now lives alone in Arch Cape, about 6 miles south of Cannon Beach, where his parents had decided to retire and settle. They chat about the weather, politics (sometimes) and most of the time, just _life_.

There’s another distraction, besides Leia Organa-Solo, that occupies his thoughts though.

A very… _fishy_ distraction.

Ben told no one besides his mother about the occurrence at the cliff. She listened carefully to his story, nodding along to his lunacy of some mythical creature watching him. She never calls him crazy. Maybe a _tad_ obsessed, but never crazy.

When Ben begins to feel the tide of grief pinprick his mind, he re-directs his thoughts to her hazel eyes, awed expression and golden _tail._

_Holy shit. I am losing my mind._

He must be, right? Mermaids do not exist. They are literal fairytales.

Ben blames his vision of the mermaid as grief and a mixture of his… _ahem_ …libido.

Anyways.

He renewed his sailing license for legal ownership of his father’s many, _many_ boats. To his surprise, his father left every sailboat, yacht and even rowboat to Ben.

He knew his parents updated their wills after Ben ran away from home, but he was certain the reason was to scrub his name from any and every legal document. That, apparently, was the opposite of what happened.

His dad’s favorite sailboat, _The Millennium,_ isn’t in the best shape when he arrives at the marina one summer afternoon. She still fares better than dozens of the other ships he passes.

The weather is fantastic. A perfect day to sail. The sun is out and there’s a slight breeze. There are some clouds far into the outbounds of the sea, but nothing major to worry about.

He enters his father’s portion of the marina and strides onto the Bermuda cutter sailboat, checking the condition of the halyards, tiller, rudder and sheets. For a ship that hasn’t sailed in nearly four years, everything appears to be in tip-top shape…

Almost like someone was visiting the marina to upkeep the flotilla.

Uncle Chewie.

Of course.

The fact never crossed his mind that Chewie _owned_ half of the marina space, but none the ships himself. He hadn’t spoken to Ben since the funeral, still a little too furious about Ben’s “abandoning-your-only-family-and-becoming-a-capitalistic dickhead” phase (Chewie’s words, not his).  
  


Ben grabs one of the heavy oars, also in good condition and unties the cleat hitch knot, successfully disembarking from the dock. He secretly thanks his over-the-top daily workout routine, grateful for the powerful arms and hefty shoulders capable of oaring the boat out to sea.

When he was a child, Ben’s father would describe sailing as flying over water, dancing over the white crested waves, clearing a path through the wind-whipped water. It was freedom to him, to set sail into the wide blue and leave the duties of the land behind him.

Painful, repressed memories of Ben spending his childhood aboard the deck of _The Millennium_ resurface with every pivot of the boom and pull at the halyards.

Han Solo loved to feel the breaking of the waves against the boat, headed somewhere uncharted and undiscovered. The ocean was his forever home. In his will, he requested to be cremated and have his ashes scattered at sea so he could forever roam in the ocean he loved so much.

His ashes specifically scattered _by his son._ Only _Ben_ was allowed to. _No one else._

Ben chuckles slightly. Even after his passing, Han Solo is still a cheeky bastard.

Shifting the halyards to angle the mast opposite of the blowing winds, Ben secures the line to a cleat, knotting the rope tightly in place. With a sigh, he drops to the bench and takes a swig of water. Sailing is exhausting and he’s using muscles that’ve remained dormant for years.

_The Millennium_ ventures a few miles out to sea, wind picking up the further he goes out. When the spot feels right, he lowers the sheets.

The urn his mother chose is sleek and black. Nothing his father would’ve actively picked. Ben removes it from his bag and holds it, letting the weight of a man he struggled years to love and understand weigh against his hands.

With a turn of his wrist and a swing of his arm, Han Solo’s ashes are scattered at sea.

He stares down at the waves, tranquil and majestic, and watches the ash sink down to ocean floor. The water hums deeply, rocking the boat into a lull. Ben doesn’t know how long he just…sits. He can’t remove his eyes from the glassy waves.

Minutes pass, and he is lost in time and cerulean deep.

Grey clouds start to creep from the horizon, unbeknownst to Ben. He only looks back up when the sail puffs loudly, the halyards set loose and whipping around the mast. The ship is thrust violently sideways nearly throwing Ben overboard. He grips the tiller with one hand and the rope with the other, strong hands holding the boat steady once again.

A slight sprinkle begins out a nowhere, the wind picks up to a howl. The weather reports said clear, sunny skies all of today. A storm is the _last_ thing Ben can handle right now.

He releases the tiller to pull out his phone, catching the fact it’s nearly dead. How much time had passed on the boat? The sun looks to be setting, the sky mixed with tints of orange and purple. His hand holding the halyard slips a little and the wind catches the sail roughly, sending Ben flying halfway across the boat. With a hard _thud_ Ben lands near the kicker and the mast spins out of control.

There is a buffer of approximately four seconds until the mast approaches and slams into Ben’s head.

The last thing he remembers is an unknown voice shouting and the fall towards the cold depths of the ocean.

□■■■□

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will get back to Rey's POV, I promise!!!  
> I wonder what that mysterious shout was 😏😏😏 hmmm....


	4. pelastaja: a savior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back lovelies to another update! This chapter got a little out of hand (around 2k words out of hand) but we'll just say it's my present to such amazing readers. 
> 
> xoxo  
> DCB

Rey hides deep within the abyss of the ocean.

She has no desire to watch the land dwellers, nor return to the house she’d been spotted at.

It was weeks ago, but the incident still stalks her memory. It plays on repeat: the box falling from his hand, his eyes widening at the sight of her and the panic that coursed through her veins. Her bad habit of picking at loose scales reforms, something that only happens when she’s especially anxious or frightened.

Anxious doesn’t even _begin_ to describe what Rey feels after that day.

Alarmed? Upset? Terrified? There isn’t a single word of land dweller language she can think of that properly fits what _exactly_ happened that afternoon.

Her heart picks up speed anytime she thinks about him. The palpitations are growing painful, the instincts of a mermaid, ancient and uncontrollable. It’s the only explanation she’s able to muster. Mermaids are not privy to the weight of a heart.

Rey hasn’t hunted for a few days. Her appetite diminishes as her anxiety and confusion force her to forget about eating.

Her fingers wrap around a small scale and _yank,_ producing a small sting.

_Ouch._

She watches a small trickle of red blood lazily swirl in the dark water.

_She needs to eat._

Her skin feels pale and vapid.

_She needs to see the sky._

Rey never thought she’d become so miserable from missing such a trivial thing like the _sky._ Her kind are bottom dwellers; they feed from the seafloor and sunken tombs of sand, but Rey prefers the fish near the surface. She hates scavenging the rather disgusting sands.

And she prefers the surface, in general. The blue sky, the breeze, the land dwellers, the house on the cliff-

She shakes her head, ridding anything of that afternoon from her thoughts.

Today, Rey will make a quick trip to the surface. She’ll stay miles away from land and she’ll avoid the large ships that commonly cross the far reaches of the sea.

Leaving her resting place of coral and seaweed, Rey takes off to the surface.

○°°°○

A deep gasp loudly hits the air the minute she passes the barrier of water.

The breeze is sweet and salty, the sky bright and azure, and the fish today look particularity juicy. She glances around, checking for any boats or humans and begins her hunt when the coast is clear. Dozens of fish race past her but a small redtail surfperch catches her eye and Rey begins to chase.

The creature zooms through the seawater, but Rey is faster. Weaving through the choppy waves, half blinded by the sun beams piercing the water, Rey hunts the fish with reawakened excitement and passion.

The poor fish never even stood a chance.

Her meal is finished within the next couple minutes, eating meant to be done quickly and efficiently: not one bone or drop of blood spared for the bottom feeders. Rey sedates into a post-meal euphoria and closes her eyes, floating just below the surface of the waves.

Her home is within the waters, within the calm and cold. It’s peace. It’s right.

Her moment of calmness is abruptly disturbed when she feels the movement of a boat, a medium sized vessel, begin to move the water around her. Her eyes fly open just in time for her to dodge the belly of the craft. It glides over her, blocking the filtered sunlight.

_Stupid land dwellers with their stupid boats._

With a flash of annoyance comes a bad idea.

The last thing she needs is to be seen once again, but her curiosity wins over perseverance, _like always._ She wants to see what kind of goldfish-brained, _halfwit_ human decided to foolishly sail out this far in way too small of a vessel. Rey lurches above the current, brows furrowed in anger and annoyance.

They're probably sailors or fishermen or a group of young, dumb humans, drinking from red cups again. Maybe she'll tip their boat over. Show _them_ how it feels to be misplaced and overwhelmed. 

But Rey's predictions are all wrong. _Very wrong._

Her eyes fall to the land dweller on the boat.

Never before had Rey noticed how time is so much like water; that it can pass slowly, a drop at a time, even freeze, or rush by in a blink.

Because time all but _stops_ when she realizes who is aboard.

It’s the man from the cliff. The man that plagues her thoughts, her heart and mind, who now sits atop the vessel, just staring down to the waves. There’s still sadness in his eyes, the brown too glossy, mouth remaining in a grim line, and black hair wind whipped. Rey notices he’s finally wearing lighter clothes of blue and grey, contrary to his ever-monochrome wardrobe. 

Her heart beats, but against a chest that feels hollow. It’s painful and _hot._

Rey hovers enough distance away from the boat, still cautious enough to _not_ repeat the same incident. His sails are lowered, so the boat sits still and rocks against the tide.

His eyes never stray from the water. He does not notice her.

Time begins to dissolve into itself, as shapeless as the rain.

Speaking of rain, the greying sky morphs to a light drizzle and the man finally snaps into awareness (perhaps Rey as well) as he inspects the sky and sea. Panic becomes evident on his face when he studies something on his box, then alarm when the boat heaves against the roaring tide.

During the hundreds of years of Rey’s life, she’s observed enough storms and ships fall to their watery graves to realize the land dweller is in trouble. 

She creeps closer to the boat, fighting against the growing waves and powerful wind. Ropes are flying around, the mechanics widely out of control. He’s thrown across the vessel, overwhelmed.

A large beam swirls at a frightening speed towards him, the man still too stunned to notice. Without another moment’s hesitation, Rey cups her hands around her mouth and shouts:

“ _Watch Out!”_

His head whips around just in time to see the beam, but the warning is practically useless. He’s knocked to the railing of the boat and then thrown overboard when the waves thrust the ship sideways.

In the grip of silent panic, Rey doesn’t move. Like the scene before her isn’t actually happening.

Her breath quickens as she searches desperately for his form, either floating or swimming. But there’s no movement. No sign of him.

She’s too far away to pinpoint the spot he fell to and dives down below the consuming storm. Rolling, dark clouds obscure the sun, darkening her vision through the murky water.

The water grows so dark, Rey can’t see the land dweller, nor anything else. She swims to the bottom of the boat, steadying a hand on its rocking surface and her eyes scan beyond the boat’s area.

His body sunk much faster than Rey anticipated. He must be heavier than the average land dweller, _much_ heavier she thinks, as he’s already halfway to the seabed. 

Rey plunges down to his direction, swimming deeper, the clouds now silhouettes in the dim saltwater.

She’s aware that humans do not last long under the water.

Rey manages to clasp a lithe hand around his wrist, but his clothes and body descend farther in soaked weight. She dives down farther, instead circling her arms around his broad chest and pumping her tail as hard as possible towards the surface.

They breach the surface of the roaring waters, rain now falling in a torrential downpour. Cold air immediately whips against her face as she grabs ahold of his. With a desperate look, Rey stares down to see his eyes still shut, but small gasps leaving his parted mouth. 

The swim to the shore will be long. He sailed miles away from the beach, and the storm makes the swim nearly herculean. She knows that swimming below the storm’s surface ensures a safer trip.

There’s only the slight problem of the man’s breathing.

That is, he _won’t_ be able to breath. _At all_. Land dwellers can’t breathe underwater.

Rey pinches her face together in thought, of any possible way she could keep him alive below the surface. She almost scoffs at herself. There is one method, one that is near fantastical, but possible.

_Merenneito-suudelma:_ The mermaid’s kiss.

Legend has it that a kiss from a mermaid gives land dwellers the ability to breathe under water. It’s all myth, but Rey is becoming more and more desperate the longer his eyes remain deathly shut.

She slips them both below the blanket of water, sinking under the waves once again. Without another second, she dips down and presses her lips to his.

His face produces no reaction or movement, even when Rey’s eyelashes tickle his cheek, deepening the kiss. Rey prays to any and every ocean deity she can remember for this to work.

A loud clap of thunder booms through the water, mixed with the sound of rain falling in heavy, powerful sheets. But all Rey overhears is the sound of her heartbeat, beating in an agonizingly harsh pattern.

The moment ends when she pulls away and watches his chest cautiously for movement. A few seconds pass, his floating form not moving until…

He takes a large _, albeit slow_ , breath under the water, eyes still closed and mind still sleeping.

Rey doesn’t have the time to thank _Ved-ava_ or _Mielikki_ before she takes off towards the surface as fast as her tail can take her. She holds him close, head tucked under his chin, preventing his neck from bending backwards.

It takes her all but ten minutes to reach the shore.

The farthest she’s able to drag him is where the tide brushes against the sand, water lapping against their exhausted bodies and Rey attempting to regain her breath.

He doesn’t stir but his chest rhythmically rises and falls. He’s still alive.

His expression is soft and finally uncurdled, unlike the one he always wears. Rey traces his brow and cheek, fingers falling back to his lips.

_This is forbidden,_ she reminds herself. _I am never to touch a human._

Ancient rules seem to be forgone for the moment. Rey needs this.

“ _Voi se, joka pitää sydäntäni,”_ she whispers to him, _“ajatuksiani…”_

Her voice is that of a siren; hypnotizing, and bewitching. She can’t help it.

“ _Rakkaani_ , please forget me. I am not meant for your world as you are not meant for mine.”

A deep pain reverberates through her heart. She continues to follow his lips with shaky fingers.

“We were never supposed to meet.”

It’s the truth, but it carries the weight of a lie.

Rey is too focused on his warm breath to notice his eyes beginning to flutter open.

_One more kiss wouldn’t hurt…right?_

Another lie. She ignores it.

Heat rises from Rey’s stomach to her chest as she gently curves her neck down to meet his lips once again. This kiss is unlike the one they shared below the waves; it’s delicate and warm, a bit of sand caught between their faces and setting sun peeking through dispersing clouds.

Deep brown eyes catch hers when she rises, caught between an array of confusion and pleasure.

Although panicked by his sudden waking, Rey knows what she must do. Her hand falls back to his cheek, still holding eye contact.

_“Nuku ja unohda minut.”_

_Sleep and forget me._

Humans cannot resist the call of a siren. His eyelids fall immediately, head lulling back to the sand.

The sun has nearly set when a wave washes over them, dragging Rey back to her watery home.

The pain within her chest hurts more than it ever has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voi se, joka pitää sydäntäni, ajatuksiani  
> Oh, the one who holds my heart, my thoughts
> 
> Rakkaani  
> My beloved/sweetheart
> 
> kudos and comments are always loved and appreciated ❤️


	5. saalis: the catch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be honest, I had a tough time writing this chapter. I'm still trying to grapple this whole writing thing and dialogue is quite the obstacle for me. Enjoy nonetheless!
> 
> (also HUGE shoutout to the amazing ladies of the Reylo Fic Recs FB group! You are all so amazing and kind ❤️)
> 
> DCB

The hospital room Leia Organa-Solo bursts into has a stagnant smell and dull atmosphere much unlike her roaring, fiery temper.

“Benjamin Solo, please explain to me why on the earth the Coast Guard found your father’s ship drifting in _the middle of the Pacific Ocean_?”

Ben sits on the edge of the standard hospital bed, clothes sandy, eye sockets swollen, and an ice pack held to his temple.

His head throbs anytime his mother speaks. Or when he speaks. Or when anything happens, really.

“I already told you over the phone, Mom” he begins with a groan, “I was scattering dad’s ashes when the storm came out of nowhere. I lost control of the halyards when the mast hit my head and knocked me out.”

His mother merely _humphs_ at his explanation.

“You’re telling me a six-foot-three, two-hundred-pound man lost control of the _halyards?_ Were you smoking something?”

Ben drops his head between his knees, trying to calm the pounding. He doesn’t want to explain his poor sailing skills _again._

“I just…wasn’t in the right state of mind. I should’ve waited a couple more weeks before taking _The Millennium_ out. And no. I was completely sober, I assure you.” He practically mumbles out the last sentence.

“You should be thankful old man Ackbar was fishing by the beach you washed up on.” Leia’s patience is strained, like she can’t believe the situation happening. “No one’s ever around that seashore, nonetheless someone you luckily _know_ and _trust._ ”

Ackbar was a long time friend of the Solo’s, and immediately recognized Ben on the shore, passed out and unresponsive. The ex-marine was kind enough to call 911 and ride in the ambulance with Ben to the E.R.

“His dinghy is still stuck at that beach, no thanks to your hiccup. I want you to drive his boat back first thing tomorrow morning.”

Ben’s silence is all the confirmation of _yes, mom_ she needs. He has over 20 _years_ of sailing experience under his belt and never has something so embarrassing or dangerous happened.

“And tell me,” she continues, “how did you manage to swim so far to the shore? _The Millennium_ was almost 5 miles out from any land.”

Now _that_ was a mystery Ben still couldn’t figure out. He remembered letting go of the tiller, the halyards swinging widely and even the mast hitting him. He must have blacked out after and floated naturally to the beach, but _that_ seemed unlikely.

By all logic’s standards, Ben should be at the bottom of the ocean right now, dead.

Did he swim? Did another boat find him and drop him off? Anytime he rummages through his brain for the memory, his thoughts become foggy and useless.

_Foggy and misty. Mist…_

Somehow that little detail feels important. But he can’t place it.

His memory hunt is interrupted when the doctor enters the room, a fringe of grey-white hair on his head and a wizened look on his face. He flips through various papers on a clipboard, glancing up to his patient. Leia takes the seat across from the bed as the aged man pulls on the hanging privacy curtain.

“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Solo. My name is Dr. Tekka. I’m your mother’s physician.” He jots down a few words on the clipboard and doesn’t offer Ben a hand to shake. “I’m sorry to hear the recent news of Han. He was a great man.”

Ben murmurs out a quiet _thanks,_ even though Dr. Tekka’s words sound sincere.

He doesn’t miss the dirty look his mother throws him.

“It looks like you took quite a spill. How do you feel?” He shines a small light into Ben’s pupils, checking for dilation.

“A little thirsty, but fine.” It’s a lie, but Ben doesn’t have the luxury of _more_ recovery time. He’s expected back to work in two days.

The doctor stashes the small flashlight into his jacket’s pocket and continues to write notes. “Well, Mr. Solo, it appears you’ve only suffered a mild concussion and slight dehydration. I recommend reduced screen time, avoiding unnecessary movement of your head and neck and lots of rest. You’ll be back to normal in no time.”

Normal?

Now _that’s_ a joke.

But Ben doesn’t have the energy to laugh.

“Next time you’re out on the open ocean, perhaps let a loved one know?” the doctor instructs him. “Boating accidents are high around the springtime and when the weather lets up.”

“Okay,” Ben guiltily pipes out.

Dr. Tekka nods to Leia and slips the clipboard into the bedside holder, leaving the room with a prompt exit.

His mother stands up to join Ben at the hospital bed. She slings her Prada bag over her shoulder and straightens out her slightly disheveled clothes, appearance taking priority to the moment.

Leia grabs Ben’s long, paled face with both hands, tilting his chin up to head level.

Her annoyance is love in disguise; Ben knows this.

“I never”, she says, **“** _ever_ want to get another call like this, Ben. I don’t want to listen to another nurse or lawyer or _doctor_ over the phone. I don’t want any more bad news.”

His mother now whispers to Ben, breath a little shaky.

“You could’ve died; do you understand that?”

He raises his chin further to meet with her warm, honey brown eyes. All Ben can do is nod in understanding, the reality of the situation hitting him.

For a woman who just lost her husband three weeks ago, the thought of losing her only child as well is gut wrenching.

Ben does not deserve a mother like Leia. He knows this. He’s put her through enough hell already.

The air lightens a little when she stands up straighter and brushes some sandy locks from his forehead. With a deep breath, she refashions her usual calm expression.

“I’m still curious how the hell you managed to swim that far. If I didn’t know better, I’d say your savoir is that _mermaid_ you keep going on about,” she half-quips, half-speaks. Her joking scoff dies down to a hush.

Awkward silence fills the hospital room.

Ben’s eyebrow quirks at her. 

“What are you talking about?”

Maybe the doctor is wrong, and Ben is suffering a full-blown contusion.

_Because Ben has absolutely no memory of any mermaid._

□■■■□

The Garibaldi Marina sits mid-way down the Oregon coast. The smell of fish guts and rot whiff through the air. Gulls cry overhead, coming for whatever they can get.

Two fishermen are preparing their vessel for the upcoming workday. Joseph, a scrawny bearded man well into his 40’s, calls out to the man down past the rickety landing.

"Hey Saul!" He turns to tip his head his way, with a smile and a raised hand.

“Ready for the early morning catch?” Saul beckons back.

With a few heavy steps, he stocks onboard and drops the industrial net on top of the deck. “Ready as I’ll ever be. You got the bait?”

The taller and lankier man grabs hold up the large bag of fathead minnow, _tuffies_ as they’re commonly known as in the commercial fishing industry. The men start the engine and remove the rope from the wooden piling, disembarking from the pier.

The sun is still resolutely below the horizon, the water dark and ominous. The two fishermen begin to set up their nets, readying the bait and sailing past the bay’s drop off zone. The coolness of the early morning keeps the men alert and ready for a day of long, difficult work.

The sun rises and crawls the sky, the day drawling at a languid pace.

Their net grows in weight for the past hour or so, common when catching smaller fish, letting the catch accumulate for a few hours.

Salmon and trout are popular for the summer season. They’re easiest to catch, transport and harvest. Any money they’ll make is good money, considering how poor the fish market sales have been.

Daylight warms the boat and men, the net becoming dense and full. The roller connected to the fishing line whines a bit from the catch.

The net suddenly jerks out of nowhere, catching something heavy. The metal boom tips at an unnatural angle towards the water.

“Saul! Saul!” Joseph cries from the stern, “Get ahold of the net crane! The roller’s about to fly right off!”

The stubby man runs from the bulkhead to the starboard, frantically grabbing at the fishing line that is spinning out of control. “What the hell is going on? Is the net stuck again?”

The bulging net is hoisted above their heads and the men help hover it over the boat. Something is wriggling feverishly within the lattice, causing the boom and mast to creak horribly.

Joseph examines the squirming net with confusion. “Maybe it’s a tuna?”

“I doubt that. There ain’t any sharks out here either.”

Both men look and each other and shrug, oblivious to their catch.

With a sharp tug of rope, the contents fall onto the floor. Piles of various fish spill around the slick deck, a few pieces of garbage-

And one, extremely frightened, golden-tailed _mermaid._


	6. uhri: a sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun little fact to think about when reading: I can only write when there is hardcore rap blasting from my laptop and I'm guzzling a PBR.  
> xoxo  
> DCB

Rey has previously landed herself into some _difficult_ situations.

There’s the time she got caught in an oil spill and the gummed, black liquid remained in her hair for weeks.

Another time, her fin hooked to a land dweller’s fishing line and she dragged the pole halfway across the Pacific before yanking it from the delicate flesh.

And, the most recent, she was seen by a human that she may or not be obsessed with. But _that_ setback has been taken care of.

At least, that’s what she tells herself.

_Anyhow._

Back to the situation on hand.

There are two humans, fishermen based off the boat and gear, staring down at her in awe and bewilderment.

Out of all the crazy, dangerous or outrageous spots Rey’s been stuck in, the one currently happening _is the absolute worse._

“Holy shit,” the short, fat man says.

“No kidding,” the other gangly and greasy man responds.

Not only has she been seen _again,_ but she’s been seen _and captured._

“Looks like we finally hit our jackpot,” the fisherman declares, “Can you imagine how much those crazy scientists will pay for a _live_ mermaid?”

Rey sits deathly still, just watching the men speak with pure panic. They appear as shocked as she is, so she uses their hesitation to slowly back away with rope burned arms.

They catch on to her objective.

One of the men steps on her fin with a steel toed boot, stopping her escape. Rey howls in pain, back thudding to the deck.

“You aren’t getting away that easy, beautiful.”

The same man grabs her flailing arms and shoves them down.

A small box, the ones humans speak to, appears in the other man’s hand, steadying the surface to Rey’s struggling figure.

“Hold er’ tight, Saul! I’mma take a photo of her!”

The heavy man, Saul, turns his head to pose, laxing the grip he holds.

Rey finds the opportunity and thrashes her tail at the thinner man, effectively knocking the box away from his clutch. Her arms fly free and her fist makes a quick, brutal contact to Saul’s temple.

Anger floods the greasy man’s expression. He replies with a solid slap to her cheek.

“Grab her again!” the man scrabbles for the box, “I only got a picture of ‘er head! We need to get the tail-“

The boat lurches forward causing the men to lose their jumbled footing and Rey to slide to the edge, right to precipice of the water, so close to freedom-

A ripping sound arises below her and when she turns her neck, there’s a sharp blade jutting from her tail.

Clenching her teeth in pain, Rey pushes over the rusty railing and escapes to the open ocean. She can hear the fisherman curse and scream at her, muffled by the sea.

A small trail of blood follows her path.

○°°°○

Rey is unsure of how long or far she swims and chastises herself; that’s the _exact_ reason she ended up in a land dweller’s net.

Her cheek is growing tender, her arms sting from thrashing and the blade is still lodged deep into her tail. All she feels is pain.

_This day is utterly, undoubtedly and absolutely the worst day of my life_.

Rey had mistakenly belived _yesterday_ was the worst day, when she had to cast the memory spell on the land dweller who holds her heart-

She stops midswim to clench at her chest, which pulses excruciatingly. Every horrible moment suffocates her with memories she wants to forget.

_What has she done to deserve this? Why has fate thrust so much misfortunate upon her?_

Her silent cry echoes through the vast, open waters.

_“Minun lapseni...”_

Out of nowhere, a voice of silk surrounds Rey’s sinking body. Her eyelids are too heavy; they won’t remain open to search for the voice.

_“When a cry of a lone siren calls from the seas, I appear to soothe the souls of those in despair.”_

Rey raises her head, watching a figure through blurred vision; a form with a glowing face and halcyon light.

She first believes it’s another of her kind, but this creature is not of her lifetime, nor of her realm.

_Ved-ava. Mother of the Oceans._

The Goddess dons a golden, shimmering tail like Rey’s, flowing red hair, and a diadem of shells. Golden scales decorate her face, arms and breasts.

Rey _must_ be dreaming.

But a dream is incapable of touching her cheek so softly and maternally.

_This is your creator, your ruler._

“ _Jumalallinen,”_ Rey bows her head to the deity, remembering her place “my tail, it’s…a land dweller’s weapon struck it. I fear I am losing too much blood.”

Ved-ava glances to Rey’s wounded flesh, humming unpleasantly at the scene.

“ _It appears you are in pain. But there is another ache within you as well?”_

Rey nods, ashamed. “My heart burns. I cannot understand it.”

“ _The sirens were not created to feel. They carry a heart of ice and cold. When the heart of one begins to warm, she longs for something beyond the ocean.”_

The words hit Rey like a wave, realization washing over her.

The land dweller.

Her longing for the land dweller has begun to warm her heart. That would explain the throbbing chests pains she hasn’t been capable of shaking for weeks now.

“I wish to join the humans, _Minun Jumalattareni_.”

If Rey is able to become mortal, her heart will become warm like theirs. _The pain will stop_.

The Goddess smiles a bit, appearing to be content of the fragile mermaid’s realization. _“To walk amongst the land dwellers forever, you require a confession of a mortal’s heart.”_

“How am I to walk on land? I’ll need legs to do so.”

_“That choice entails a sacrifice.”_

Rey can’t afford to lose any more blood, nor does she have a firstborn to give up. Ved-ava is known as a merciful Goddess. She doubts she will ask for anything that will hurt her further.

“…What type of sacrifice?”

_“The sacrifice of your tongue, of your voice. Sirens are the voice of the sea, cunning and sly. Your spells are bewitching to the mortals.”_

“So, I’m never to speak to the humans?”

_“There are more ways to speak beyond the mouth. But there is a way to reverse my spell. One kiss will liberate your tongue…and your powers.”_

That’s not too hard. She’s already kissed a mortal. Twice.

Once Rey’s kisses the land dweller again, she’ll have her powers of the call back. She can just _bewitch_ his heart to love her. Then she can remain forever mortal.

No more cold, watery nights, no more lonely days of watching what others has and she doesn’t, no more threats of being caught and sold, like some _animal._

“ _One kiss of_ true love _specifically_ , _Minun lapseni_ ,” she continues.

Oh.

So much for her bewitching plan. This may prove to be a little more difficult than she anticipated.

“ _My powers can help with your visible wound, but your heart’s healing is entirely up to you_.” Ved-ava gently wraps her fingers around the blade, and painlessly pulls it free, the blood stopping immediately.

“ _You have 3 sunrises to obtain a mortal’s confession.”_ The water rises and envelopes Rey, a wave beginning to push her to shore, carrying her farther and farther from the deity. “ _Today’s morning has already expired._ _Go on, my child_.”

Magic flows through Rey’s body, her fins losing all feeling and her lungs beginning to fill with water quickly. 

“ _Tuuli ja aallot ovat aina kyvykkäimmät navigoijat, mutta sydän ei koskaan kulje polkuaan,”_ Ved-ava calls out hopefully to the lone mermaid.

Satisfied, the red-headed Goddess becomes nothing more than a fleeting light.

○°°°○

The ocean shore is a gateway, a portal of kind, that connects the world of reality to the world of fables.

Between realms it is loud and silent; the crashing waves are raucous, but the air encompassing the beach sings softly, like a whisper.

Rey listens to the lacy waves, lapping and falling against her exhausted body. Coughing and sputtering leave her mouth; a new sensation.

The late morning’s sun peeks through an array of white and wispy clouds and her tail has lost its weight. Her mind is muddled and weary. Her physical injuries still stand, but the ones deep within her are released.

Rey falls into a deep, restless slumber, the sound of seagulls above her and the warm, coarse sand below becoming the last remnants of her memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'll be nice to Rey someday....
> 
> Minun lapseni  
> My child
> 
> Jumalallinen  
> Divine One
> 
> Minun Jumalattareni  
> My Goddess
> 
> Tuuli ja aallot ovat aina kyvykkäimmät navigoijat, mutta sydän ei koskaan kulje polkuaan  
> Wind and waves are always the most capable navigators, but the heart only strays one way
> 
> kudos and comments are always loved and appreciated ❤️


	7. nainen: the woman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to say this last chapter, but we're over 100 kudos!! What?!  
> This fic has been up for less than a week and already has hit 1300 views. Crazy.  
> Thank you, thank you to all my amazing readers! I hope you are enjoying the journey as much as I am.
> 
> ❤️  
> DCB
> 
> **CW: talk about mentions of unwanted touch**

_Deep within the sea, under the moonlight’s tide, he falls farther and farther._

_Ben drifts down, down through the dark indigo, down to the ocean’s floor._

_When he tries to open his mouth to breathe, only seawater enters._

_His throat sears in agony with the rising pressure of trapped air._

_Ben is drowning._

_Ben is drowning, alone, within the depths of the watery grave he will now share with his father’s ashes._

_Ben is alone._

_He is going to die alone, within a dark, watery abyss._

_As the world becomes darker and darker, he feels a small current begin to move above him. A delicate hand wraps warmly around his wrist, pulling him away from the void._

_When he glances up, he sees a shadow and hears a voice, a whisper._

_“Remember me.”_

Ben Solo surges up from his bed, white sheets drawn around his waist, and forehead dripping with sweat. He gulps feverishly at the cooling night's air, an unknown feeling strangling his mind. 

The memory of his dream slowly fades between pants. 

The voice does not. 

**□■■■□**

Crescent Beach is a ten-mile drive north of Ben’s house. He’s visited the state park a few times as a teenager. Usually to drink beers away from prying eyes, but the road is fairly unfamiliar.

He rolls the windows down of his green F-150, the wind tousling his unkept raven hair. The clouds hang low around the oceanside, sun peeking through the haze in small increments. If Ben didn’t have a job to do today, he would _definitely_ be spending his free day lounging on the sand.

He can still feel the sensation of saltwater down his throat, but the dream has worn down to a blurry memory. Just like yesterday.

The truck enters the beachside and tires crunch the sandy gravel. Akbar’s dinghy is clear in sight, parked in the middle of the beach, no anchor tethering the abandoned vessel.

Ben puts the truck in reverse, careful with the trailer he’s hitched on this morning and backs the vehicle down the shore. The trailer’s rear markers nearly touch the weathered boat when he removes the keys from the ignition.

_Falling, he’s falling…_

The residue of last night’s dream shakes him again, remembering nothing besides the cold and the voice.

Must be a form of PTSD.

Or something.

Shaking his head, Ben yanks his mind from the proverbial gutter and begins to haul the dingy up to the trailer.

With all his strength, he tugs the craft over the first plank, then moves to the rear to push from behind. The boat slides onto the platform with ease, still slippery from the morning fog.

All that’s left is to secure the dinghy so that it doesn’t fly off the trailer mid-trip.

Nothing says _thank you for finding my unconscious ass on a beach, taking me to the hospital and practically saving my life_ better than delivering a road-smashed boat.

Ben rounds to other side, grabs the belts and latches them firmly to the trailer. Sweat perspires through his white shirt, underestimating how much of a workout this retrieval would be.

His shoulder and back already ache from sailing, then combined with the exhaustion that accompanies a mild concussion, Ben is already tired at 11 am.

His eyes wander from the cam buckles, dazing out to the ocean while continuing the _clacking_ with practiced routine.

Birds run from the upcoming waves. The air is clean and crisp. He feels the remnants of the night’s headache fade with every deep, salty inhale.

The ocean always brightens his mood. _Always_.

Even if he nearly drowned within it less than twenty-four hours ago.

Ben’s attention strays farther down the beach and he spots something…odd. It’s nearly the same color of the sand. Maybe a piece of driftwood? His vision is so blurry that he can’t place it.

Ben _detests_ wearing his glasses. They make him feel old. He avoids wearing them anytime outside of work.

But, god _damn_ this painful squinting. His glasses would be tremendously helpful right about now.

Securing the last buckle, he strolls past his truck barefoot and walks through the wet sand, letting the frigid water rush over his feet. The clouds move enough out of the way, allowing the sun to envelope the beach, waves and nearby fir trees.

The sunlight _also_ clarifies the object he’s been eyeing.

It’s not driftwood or debris.

It’s a person.

A woman.

A completely _nude_ woman.

_What the hell._

A foamy trail of seawater climbs up the shore, engulfing the woman’s legs, bare breasts and face entirely in water. She doesn't bat an eye.

The alarms in his head blare. His stroll becomes a light jog, then develops to a run.

He rushes to her; the first thought hitting Ben that this woman is dead. With closer inspection though, he’s able to see her back slowly rise and fall.

There are no other people at the beach or any boats even close to the shore.

The woman is completely alone.

_What the hell am I supposed to do?_

Should he call the police? An ambulance? That’s what Ackbar did.

Ben crouches down to the limp figure and notices redness along her arms, a purpling bruise along her cheek and scarred stab wound below her knee.

Was she trying to…escape? Is she a victim of abuse?

If that’s the case, then the authorities will be the last people to call. Abuse victims are sometimes handed straight back to their abusers, the police completely oblivious.

_Shit._

The best idea seems to be taking her back to his house, calling his mother for advice, then driving her wherever she needs to be taken back to when she wakes up.

“Miss?” he shakes a shoulder. She doesn’t stir. Ben’s not one for touching anyone without their consent, nevertheless a _naked woman_ , but this time could be a matter of life or death.

For all he knows, this woman could have a cognitive disability and would’ve died right here on the beach if he hadn’t found her.

Warm skin presses into Ben’s palms as he scoops her up with the utmost care, careful to cradle her small head with his arm.

Small, so very, _very_ small.

She’s almost half his size and practically half his weight.

He can’t help but notice how _soft_ she is.

His legs shift uncomfortably, pants tightening around his hips. The sensation of blood leaving his head forces him to straighten his spine and clear his throat.

_Benjamin Solo, you are_ not _getting hard for a helpless, unconscious woman._

He fixes laser-focused eyes to her face and wills his stupid beating heart to abate.

_Get it together._

Ben instead studies the spattering of freckles across her nose, her long lashes and sleeping features. Her long, tangled hair brushes against his knees with every step. 

A pulse resonates through his brain, a memory trying to claw its way back to the surface.

It’s the same feeling he’s been having since the accident, the feeling that there is something _very important_ he’s forgetting.

Ben places the unconscious woman into the passenger seat, careful not to hit her head or feet against the door frame. With a tug of the back door's handle, he grabs the jacket he’d stashed earlier and covers her with the modesty she deserves. 

The truck climbs up the sand, far too fast than required, and takes off towards the road.

The forgotten dinghy rattles violently atop the trailer.

□■■■□

_Brrring…_

Silence.

_Brrring…_

The receiving end of the call rings over and over again, the recipient obviously not picking up.

_“You’ve reached the phone of Leia Organa-Solo, leave me a message and I’ll try to get back to you whenever possible.”_

_Beep!_

Ben frustratingly ends the call, the fourth now, not even bothering to leave another repetitive voicemail.

With a stressed sigh, he peeks over from the kitchen to the living room, eyes quietly roaming over the couch and its guest. Multiple blankets cover her now, the top of her head and bottom of her feet peek out from under the layers of flannel, fleece and batting.

She didn’t move or wake during the bumpy car ride or the jostling carry into his house.

Ben’s becoming worried there’s something _really_ wrong with her and _he just needs his mother to pick up her fucking phone because he’s slightly panicking and-_

The device buzzes in his hand and Ben has never answered his phone so fast.

“Mom!”

“Jesus, Ben, I was in the shower!” She sounds more annoyed than concerned. “I didn’t listen to any of the voicemails, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Ben runs a worried hand through his hair, his nervous tick. “I’m fine, I promise, but I’m freaking out. On the beach there was…I was grabbing Ackbar’s dinghy and there was _something_ ,” he knows he’s rambling, “I thought it was driftwood. But it _wasn’t_ and I-“

“Benjamin please get to the point; you’re freaking me out.”

“I found an unconscious woman on the beach and brought her home.”

Leia’s response delays. “You WHAT?”

“I found an unconscious woman on the beach and brought her home” he repeats.

"Hold on, you’re telling me you find a woman passed out on the beach and your first instinct is to _take her home_? _Christ,_ I know you haven’t dated since that Bazine bitch broke your heart but-"

"What? No, no it's nothing like that. Holy shit, Mom." 

"Benjamin So-"

He interrupts, wanting to stop his mother's current train of thought.

“She’s not waking up at all and I’m worried she’s seriously hurt.” The concern is evident in Ben’s shaking voice, and he continues.

“She has these _marks_ on her arms, some kind of stab wound, and I think someone slapped her. Mom, I-I don’t know, what if she was being abused? You know I can’t call anyone if that’s the case.”

His mother scoffs. “Actually, you sure as hell _can,_ but you need her permission before any authorities are alerted.”

“Yea, okay,” his breathing evens out, “then I’ll just wait for her to wake up. Let her tell me what to do next.”

“Do not do _anything_ without her permission, Benjamin.”

“You think I'm _that_ much of a pervert? Seriously?”

"I didn't say that you're a _pervert_ , it's just that you are a man of power. You like being the top dog. And there's currently a helpless woman in your house. The thought scares me a little."

Looks like _some_ wounds will never heal.

"Mom, _please_ trust me. I know I've broken a lot of promises in the past...but you can trust me on this one."

Speaking to his mother both calms and increases the swell of anxiety. His mother has become a necessary voice of reason for Ben, whether it's good or bad.

"Fine. But I'm warning you. If you hurt that girl in any way possible, I will make your life a living hell, Benjamin."

Exactly the response Ben expected from her. Typical. 

"Okay. Thank you."

Her outrages seems to simmer down, Ben hearing calming breaths through the static. Leia sounds like she’s chewing on her next words, hesitant to speak them.

“...What does she look like?”

"The girl?"

"No _,_ Ackbar's old dinghy," she sarcastically quips. "Yes, the girl, you bonehead."

If he's being honest, Ben's a little thrown by his mother's out of nowhere question. He rounds the kitchen’s island and enters the living room, stopping at the edge of the area rug to look down at the woman.

She’s absolutely beautiful, probably the most ethereal woman he’s ever seen. Soft brows, rounded cheeks, _ridiculously_ kissable lips-

That is not what his mother is asking.

“Uh, she’s pretty small. Long, brown hair, pale skin, and-“

A hand peeks out from under the blankets, revealing the underside of her wrist.

“Huh. I didn’t notice that before.”

“Notice what?” his mother hangs on to every word he speaks.

“On her wrist, there’s these 3 black marks, three tally marks. They look sort of like they’re tattooed. I’m not sure? I’m surprised I didn’t see those earlier.”

His mother goes silent over the phone. Her breathing stops.

“Mom? Hello?”

“Sorry, Ben. Just spaced out a bit there.”

She clears her throat.

“ _Uh_ , yes _,_ make sure you call someone when she wakes up and keep me updated about her condition.”

“I will.”

More silence on his mother's end. 

"Mom?" 

"Yes?"

“Before you go…why did you want to know what she looks like?”

A beat.

“Lady reasons. Nothing you need to worry about.”

Ben swears his mother is chuckling when she ends the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some quick notes pertaining this chapter: 
> 
> If you are in an abusive relationship or situation, please seek help from authorities. That is their job. Ben is only hesitant because of an event in the past and for the sake of this story.
> 
> CONSENT CONSENT CONSENT! Always ask for someone's consent to touch them, unless they are in a situation like our characters have found themselves in.
> 
> Ben is _not_ a pervert in this story, nor is he any kind of creep. He is a good guy.
> 
> Phew.   
> See y'all next chapter.


	8. nimi: a name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know a chapter is going to be good when you had to Google the Ruth's Chris Steakhouse menu in order to complete it. 
> 
> enjoy!  
> DCB

Pleasant sunshine warms Rey’s face, her eyes slowly opening to the daylight.

She blinks away the remainders of sleep and gazes out at the ocean’s horizon, high above the heaving waves.

_Where am I?_

Has she passed to _Tuonela?_

She always expected the afterlife to be much darker than this. Stories spoke of the fabled place like nightfall, the other side of a blackened river; souls crossing the threshold when they’re earthly existence had come to an end.

This place is in no way _Tuonela._ It’s much too bright. And warm. And comfortable.

Rey pushes the mound of fabric piled on her body and her breath hitches when she looks _down._

_Legs._

The fisherman, the bleeding, Ved-ava, _the deal,_ it all comes rushing back to her.

_She traded her tail for legs. To walk with the land dwellers._

For a meager second, she mourns the loss of her long, beautiful tail, but the surging amount of _joy_ that fills her heart is much louder.

_Her now pain-free heart._

Her happiness is short lived when she looks around the room, confused and scared. Rey doesn't know where she is.

Sparse furnishing sits on the wooden floor and large windows overlook the ocean view. There’s a giant version of the metal boxes humans carry around set up on a wall, delicate pictures hung neatly next to its place.

She looks back out the window, then a bit lower, to see a deck made of glass, metal poles lining the railing.

A glass balcony….

Rey _knows_ this house. She knows this balcony. Recognition flares through her head.

The cliff house.

_Rey is in the cliff house._ Not outside of it, not watching from afar.

Fate can be a funny thing sometimes.

If she’s in the house, then where is-

The land dweller thuds down some stairs, eyes fastened to every step as he holds an armful of fabric. He doesn’t notice her at first, too disheveled and distracted even with Rey’s eyes boring holes right through him. 

He stops mid-step towards the room and _stares_ , clearing his throat.

“Uh, I see you’re awake.”

Rey doesn’t answer him or blink.

_This must be a dream, right?_

“I can call the police right now if you need me to. If there’s anyone hurting you, you can let them know. It’s okay.”

_Hurting me?_

Rey recalls the net’s rope burns and blow to her face. Yes, someone _did_ technically hurt her, but they’re long gone.

“….is anyone hurting you, Miss?”

Rey realizes she hasn’t answered a single question the man has asked. She snaps out of her daze, mouth opening to say-

Nothing.

No sound comes.

_I traded my voice for the legs._ How could she forget?

The only sound she can make is a sort of _huff_ , breathy and pathetic.

The whole no-voice, no-speaking thing is already becoming a larger problem than she initially believed.

“Um…do you understand me? English?”

She nods _yes._

“Then, can you tell me, is there anyone hurting you?”

A shake of the head says _no._

He lets out a sigh of relief. “Okay, well that’s good.”

Rey continues to stare at him. He secures his eyes to the couch’s backing.

The man jolts and suddenly remembers the pile of fabric he’s holding and walks farther into the room. “I have--I brought you some old clothes of mine. Uh, I don’t think they’ll fit you very well but…”

His voice trails off when Rey stands up on _very_ wobbly legs, all her coverings falling to the floor. The land dweller’s gaze follows her movement.

He clears his throat again and blushes, looking down to the couch once more. “Here-re, please put these on. I don’t feel it’s very appropriate to talk to you when you’re so…” there’s slight hesitation, “ _exposed_.”

The man sets a plethora of choices onto the sofa, quickly turning his back to give her what she assumes is privacy.

Rey has never worn clothing. It’s unnecessary when blood and gills can regulate your body temperature, even a mile deep within the sea. Luckily, she’s seen enough land dwellers at the beach remove and dress to moderately understand.

She chooses a white, much too large shirt and marvels its softness within her grip, before slipping it over her head.

Now covered, she taps the man’s shoulder, letting him know she’s decent.

He turns around and gives her a quick look over, frowning when his eyes trail past the end of the shirt.

“You need to wear some pants.” He grabs a piece of the pile and holds it out to her. _Pants,_ she learns, are the clothes used to conceal legs.

He wants her to conceal her brand-new, _gorgeous_ legs? _Absolutely not._

She pouts and shakes her head.

“Well,” he sets the attire back on the couch, “if I drive you anywhere, you _need_ to wear them. I can’t take you out in public wearing no bottoms.”

Rey sees no problem in _that_. More humans to show her legs off to.

He continues, despite her refusal. “Speaking of driving, where do you live? Is there somewhere I can take you to?”

Rey turns to face the oversized window and points out to the sapphire landscape of her home.

“Across the Pacific? Do you live in Hawaii? Australia?”

She doesn’t know any of those locations, never bothering to learn the human names for land territories. Her finger points a bit more fervently towards the sea as she shakes her head.

“…that’s just water. You’re pointing to the ocean. You’re from _the ocean_?”

Rey nods, and turns back to him, smile erupting from acknowledgement, but her reaction is not shared. The land dweller isn’t smiling. He’s slightly _frowning._

He runs a hand through thick hair, and sighs, looking at the ceiling. “And you’re sure there’s _no one_ I can call? A sibling or parent or spouse? Maybe a…hospital?”

Her head shakes. _No. She’s exactly where she needs to be, right here._

The man appears to be lost as what to do. His eyes fall from the ceiling and land back with hers. “I never asked, but what’s your name?”

Another blank stare.

“Could you maybe…write it down?” He suddenly moves away from his spot into another room, drawers clattering for a minute, before he returns with a blank book and stick.

“Here,” he offers her the objects, and she takes them tentatively. “You can write your name. And your address, too.”

Rey stands frozen, holding them with puzzlement. She understands the _concept_ of writing, but she’s never _tried_ the particular activity.

Gripping the small stick, she brings it to the paper and scribbles across the blank page, looping circles and dark lines engraved into the white surface.

It’s quite amusing. She sees why humans enjoy doing it so much.

For the man, though, it’s _not._ He just stares blankly at the scrawled paper, jaw dropped.

“O-okay, so you can’t _write_ either.” Another sigh. “This is going to be a problem.”

He paces the couch’s length, small, thoughtful steps filling the room. His hands keep running through his hair and stop their movement when he stops.

“I know you can’t…talk, or write, but maybe you could sound your name out?”

It’s a good idea Rey should’ve thought of earlier.

She can try, but her name may be a little trickier to guess than a typical human's. _Rey_ derives from _Reija,_ meaning _watchful_ but _Rey_ is the name she always carried, even though the last time someone said it was centuries ago.

Her mouth sounds out the _R_ , then opening to _ey_ , shaping it as loudly as someone with no voice can.

His brows furrow in concentration, desperately trying to decipher. “Rain?”

She shakes her head, _no. But close._

He tries again. “…Grey?”

_Ah, closer._ The start isn’t right though.

An idea strikes Rey.

She rounds the couch, legs still shaky and unfamiliar with the motion, and ambles to the other side.

A sharp inhale sounds from the man, completely immobile. Rey is only a whisper away from his heaving chest.

He repeats again, voice _much_ deeper, “Your…it’s Grey?”

Her name is not _Grey_ but it’s close enough. Just one syllable off. She tips her head down, asking him to say it again.

“Gr-?”

Her hand sneaks up to his lips and cuts off the pesky _G_ sound, shaking her head.

Her breath unwillingly hitches as her hand falls, deploring the loss of warmth, and she slowly mouths _Rey_ to him again.

“Okay, no ‘G’, got it."

Luckily, he picks up on her complicated tactic.

"So then…Rey? Your name is Rey? Spelled the same way as _Grey_?”

Spelling, writing, reading and human text _in general_ are mysteries to her. So _no_ , she has no idea if her name is spelled the same way, but she nods anyways.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Rey.” He offers her a tentative hand. “My name is Ben, Ben Solo.”

She doesn’t understand the gesture and draws her gaze back to his face, more importantly to his lips; the lips she’s touched again.

_“...nice to meet you…”_ His words echo through her mind.

_You have met me before,_ Rey wants to tell him.

_But I am a fool and I made you forget me._

She just needs a kiss, just _one_ to regain her voice, to release the spell he’s under. The spell _she_ cast.

Everything around her blurs and drowns to nothingness as she leans forward, balancing on novel toes, small hands balancing on his chest. Ben stands frozen in shock but begins to lean in, just as sedated as she is. Her eyes close half-way, and Rey’s so close, she can feel his stuttering breath on her nose, so, _so close…_

Her stomach growls unexpectedly, the loud sound so distracting that Ben takes a feverish step backwards.

“You-you’re hungry.” His voice is a frenzied stutter. “Let’s go get some food.”

Her heart droops.

But she is _really_ hungry.

“I know a really good spot, a classic, just at the bottom of the hill.” Ben moves to the next room, returning with some jingling metal and his speaking-box.

“I can take you to the doctor after, if you’re okay with that. To help with the bruises on your arms.”

It’s almost like he’s a different man, stoic and professional. He’s returned to the detached personality she’s familiar with, the man she watched from beyond the rocks and sea.

“How does that sound?”

Rey nods, unhappy about the interruption, unhappy about his sudden mood change.

“But before we go,” he grabs the clothes off the couch, “you _need_ to put on pants. Please.”

With an annoyed huff, Rey grabs the article of clothing.

_Only because he asked nicely._

○°°°○

The smell of seafood and French fries waft through _Dana’s Diner_ and Ben could not be less hungry.

Ben sits down on the worn seat as the hostess sets the menus down, a smirk on her lips. The woman, _Rey_ , sits directly across him in the booth.

Today has been _weird_ to say the least.

Actually, the last _forty-eight hours of his life_ have been weird.

He almost drowns while scattering his dad’s ashes. He dreams about said near-drowning and hears a voice in his head. Then, the following day, he finds an unconscious woman on the _exact_ same shore he washed up on, who, non-chantilly informed him that she lives _in the goddamn ocean_ and is _illiterate and mute_.

Oh yes.

_She also tried to kiss him._

How could Ben forget.

He grabs the menu to distract himself from his thoughts, searching for _anything_ that will not make him vomit the second it’s served to him.

Ben is so busy scanning the options, that it slips his mind that Rey literally cannot read the menu. When he lifts his gaze up to her, she’s staring out to the diner’s bar, studying the patrons drinking and laughing.

“…Rey?” Her attention snaps back to him. “Do you want me to read the menu for you?”

She holds up the menu and offers it to him, brows raised.

_Holy shit, has she never eaten at a restaurant?_

Slowly, he opens the menu sleeves and lies the plastic-covered paper flat on the table. “So, it says today the special is _Lobster Chowder._ There’s also some salads,” Ben flips to the next page, “some sandwiches here and their burgers are pretty good.”

Rey studies the menu so thoroughly, Ben swears she’s picked up the ability to read during the nine-minute drive down the cliff. 

With a sense of pride, Rey points a finger to one of the very few photographed items: _ALASKAN KING CRAB W/ROASTED POTATOES AND HOMESTYLE GREEN BEANS._

Ben gawks a little.

She’s picked the most expensive item on the menu. He’s suddenly very grateful for his presidential position at First Order Trade.

The waitress approaches and sets two glasses of water down, before stopping suddenly and turning to Ben, who’s eyes are still glued to the endless list of options.

“Benjamin?”

He’d recognize that voice anywhere. Ben should've known he'd run into her, but not as their waitress. 

“Uh, hi Maz.”

Maz is the diner’s owner and another old friend of his parents. Ben’s been coming to the diner since he was in diapers but hasn’t been for a few years. Eight, to be precise.

“Good to see you back at _Dana’s_.” The old woman’s tone is welcoming but a little harsh. “Still not speaking to Leia after your little tantrum?"

Ben hisses through his teeth. The jab stings. "I'm happy to inform you I've spoken to my mother every day for the past 3 weeks now."

"Hmmm. Good for you." He can't tell if she's being sincere. “You’ve gotten bigger since I saw you last.”

“I think you’re just getting shorter, Maz.”

“Ha, ha.” Maz laughs mockingly. She then turns to Rey and roams her over with a famous ‘ _Maz is Judging_ ’ looks.

“Who’s this?”

Ben looks back to the small girl across the booth. “Her name is Rey.”

Maz’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead. “She can’t introduce herself?”

Ben does not want to explain today again. Or be yelled at again. So he settles for a little, white lie.

“She’s really…shy.” He cringes at his own fib. Rey is everything _but_ shy. She's currently commando. 

Maz appears to not believe him either but doesn’t delve any deeper.

“Well, what can I get for you Miss Rey?”

Ben interrupts her, “She wants the Alaskan crab special. And I’ll take the chowder.” He gathers up the menus in a hurry and nearly shoves them into her wrinkly hands. “Thanks, Maz.”

A flash of annoyance crosses her face as she jots down the order and grabs the menus back. “Watch it, Benjamin. I got your mother on speed dial.”

Her face is tender when she speaks to Rey, “Food will be right out. Sorry you have to sit with this bag of sunshine.”

Rey does not seem to understand the mild insult towards directed to Ben, gaze returning to the bar as Maz goes to put in the order.

And then they wait. Rey’s stomach growls during the entire twenty-two-minutes.

They don’t talk, _obviously,_ but she seems perfectly content with people watching. _Dana’s_ is known to serve a variety of people in Cannon Beach, so the entertainment is seemingly endless.

When the steaming meals finally get to the table, Ben hasn’t even picked up his spoon when Rey begins to eat.

She crunches the crab legs, shell and all, mouth opening every time she chews, treating Ben to a view of the partially masticated food over and over again. Rey gulps it down and without pausing to breathe, takes another swinging bite of food.

Rey eats like a carnivorous animal, forgoing any manners or bashfulness.

Ben’s eating is bird-like. He takes slow, quiet bites of the soup, careful not to burn his tongue.

His gaze flickers from Rey to a woman sitting across the diner staring at their booth, but more specifically at Rey. From the corner of his eye he catches another customer staring at her, intently watching the young woman’s disgusting eating habits.

Ben removes his elbows from the table and straightens up in his seat, shooting dirty looks to the customers judging Rey. Sure, she may not have the _best_ table manners but…

His eyes take another, longer look at the girl. She’s wearing his old, worn sailing clothes. Her hair is sandy and tangled. She has a nasty bruise on her cheek.

There might be a few _other_ reasons people are staring.

Rey doesn’t notice or care. She’s currently too invested in the potatoes she's cramming into her mouth.

_Ben Solo, what the hell have you gotten yourself in to?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This...chapter...almost...killed...me.  
> I write every single chapter the day before I post. This method is not doing good things for my mental health.  
> So see y'all Saturday and thank you for reading!!!


	9. salaisuus: the secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I want to say thank you to all my amazing readers who were insistent I put my mental health before this fic. It was a really important wakeup call.
> 
> That being said, I don't think this fic will be complete for Mermay. I plan on updating every other day now, and possibly bumping it to 14 chapters. 
> 
> Enjoy!  
> DCB

**Sorry I didn’t text you but, she woke up**

_And? Is she okay?_

**Yes. We’re at Dana’s. No one is hitting her**

_Well that’s good to hear_

_Wait_

S _he woke up and asked for diner food?_

Ben’s fingers abate their typing and he looks up to ensure Rey's preoccupied. There’s nothing ruder than texting at the dinner table. She’s holding the plate up to her face and licking the remnants of her meal. Some of the scraps fall and land on the yellowing shirt.

**Uh, no, she didn’t ask for anything actually**

_What do you mean?_

**She can’t…speak**

**Or write**

_Oh my_

**I did learn her name though**

_Can she sign?_

**No, she sounded it out. Her name is Rey**

_Hmmm that’s a rather odd name_

**Her name is probably the most normal thing about her**

_???_

Ben hears the sound of plastic peeling and glances up to see Rey open up a creamer cup and then promptly pour the half and half directly into her mouth, smiling at the sweetness.

**I’ll call and tell you when we get to Providence**

_She asked to go to the hospital? Specifically?_

**No but I think she may be schizophrenic or something similar, and possibly homeless, I’m not sure**

**Rey told me she lives in the ocean??? Does that not sound like mental illness?**

His phone starts ringing fervently, the noise almost drowned out in the loud diner. Taking a call in the middle of a restaurant is _far_ worse than texting but….

He brings the phone to his ear. “Mom I told you I’d call you when-“

“Ben. Do _not_ take her to a hospital.”

_Um, what?_

“What are you talking about?” He turns to face the window, voice low, and out of earshot to Rey. “She’s clearly sick.”

“Bring her to Arch Cape. I’ll talk to her. Then you can take her.”

Now _this_ is unusual for this mother. Ben wouldn’t describe her as overly maternal, but the tone of her voice is worried and adamant.

“…you do realize she won’t be able to respond, right?”

“I have a masters in psychology,” she reminds him. “I can to get more info from her than any of those quacks at Providence.”

“Um, okay then, I guess we’ll drive down after I pay the check.”

Speaking of the devil, Maz rounds to their table and gives Ben a scornful look for taking a call right here, right now.

“Sorry. It’s my mother,” he tells Maz, gesturing with his phone and ending the call. The old woman sets the bill down and nods in understanding.

“Tell her I say hi.”

He’s aware Maz and his mother talk all the time, if not daily, so the request is more for him than her.

“I’ll let her know,” he grumbles, fishing out some cash one-handedly.

Maz turns back to Rey, now on her fifth cup of half and half, and cringes. “And teach your girlfriend maybe a few…social cues. Just some advice.”

Maz grabs the cash quickly and heads to the back, never giving Ben the chance to correct her mistake.

□■■■□

The green truck cruises down Shingle Mill lane, a road with very few houses all with perfect beach views. Driving past the white picket fence that lines the lawn, Ben and Rey approach his parent’s, but more recently, his mother house. It’s a simple country home, nothing like the white monstrosity they’d signed over to Ben at the ripe age of twenty-one.

He parks the truck on the paved driveway right behind his mother’s red 1971 Beetle. It’s incredibly dirty and Ben makes a mental note to offer to wash it next weekend. Or whenever the hell he’s be back in Arch Cape.

Rey had begun to shiver when they had left the restaurant earlier, his old clothes too thin and breezy for the rapidly darkening sky. She now wears his jacket, also too large for her, and Ben ignores the slight chill of the salt tinted breeze.

He also ignores the urge to loop an arm around Rey’s tiny waist and help her walk. She’s still wobbling with shaky legs hours after waking up.

With a solid rapt to the heavy oak door, and a few doorbell rings, his mother answers. She’s dressed head to toe in expensive, designer clothes and her hair is up and braided. If Ben knew any better, he'd say his mother _dressed up_ for their visit. 

“Hey, Mom.”

Leia stands in the oversized doorway, eyes shining to the view of Ben back to her house, and now with a girl in tow.

“This is-“

“Rey. I remember.” She reaches for the confused girl’s hand and shakes it. “Nice to see you awake and well. I’m Leia. Ben and I were quite worried when he told you’d washed up. It’s sure lucky that he was there.”

Rey doesn’t seem to understand what’s going on but smiles and nods anyways.

“Come on in, kiddos. I made some tea already.”

Han’s funeral took place in New York, but the wake was here in Arch Cape, in his parent’s home. He hadn’t returned since then.

As they walk through the hallway lined with pictures of Ben, his parents and their friends, he catches Rey looking at the frames with acute observation. He wishes for hundredth time today that she could speak, and he could ask what is going on in her mind.

Past the hallway and living room, they walk on the old-fashioned parquet flooring, and move around the furniture, all antiques and hand-me-downs, collected for centuries by the Skywalker family.

The entire house is a _home._ Something he has missed for so many years now.

There’s three steaming mugs set up on the dining room table, the chairs pulled out as well. His mother was eagerly anticipating her guests.

“You take the seat next to me, Miss Rey.” Leia nods to the chair to the right of the table head. “Ben can sit behind you. I’ve already talked to him enough today.”

_Very nice, Mom_ he wants to say, but this is her house and her rules. Leia’s word is law in her own territory.

He sits with a huff while Rey cautiously takes the seat, eyes now glued to the mug and its contents.

“It’s peppermint, if you’re wondering. Very refreshing,” she informs the girl.

Peppermint is Ben’s favorite’s flavor.

He decides not to say anything, taking a small, burning sip instead.

“So,” his mother begins, “Miss Rey-“

The serene moment is interrupted by Ben’s phone going off _again,_ the ringing so loud he jumps out his seat and angrily grabs for the device in his back pocket. When he looks at the screen and figures out who’s calling, he curses and wants to chuck the small piece of plastic to the floor.

_Armitage Hux_

What does that bastard need so badly that he’s calling him at _6 pm on a Saturday night?_

It must be a company emergency, because the call is unprecedented and unusual. Headquarters either have to be on fire or Snoke is on death’s bed.

“Sorry ladies,” Ben apologizes, “I have to take this call or else I won’t hear the end of it.”

His mother nods in understanding. “It’s alright, Ben. I need to talk to Rey privately, so you were going to get kicked out soon anyways.”

It’s a small piece of assurance and Ben knows his mother has good intentions. She’s past the time of bad-mouthing about him to others in private. _Trust_ , he tells himself, _they need to keep building their trust._

With a curt nod, he turns to walk past the kitchen onto the back deck, answering the call.

○°°°○

Rey has decided that land dwellers are _much_ more interesting up close.

From their food, to their conversations and their relationships, she’s surprised she didn’t make a deal with _Ved-ava_ earlier. Rey has been missing out for _years._

The woman in front of her is Ben’s mother, who she assumes was the one he spoke to through the box previously. Her hair is long, like Rey’s, and it’s intricately looped and braided around her head. The plait style reminds her of _sisarensa,_ a traditional siren’s hairstyle associated with _Mielikki_ worship.

The silence is awkward now that Ben has left. Because Rey lacks the means of communication, she grabs the drink in front of her with both hands and gazes into the cup, awaiting Leia’s words.

“I can’t believe those assholes Ben works with,” she finally begins. “Someday he’ll listen to me and dump that job of his.”

Rey can’t comment or respond. Instead, she nervously reaches for a tail that’s no longer present, to pick scales that don’t exist. Her hands find the expanse of smooth flesh of her new legs in its place. 

“I don’t mean to scare you. Ben is sometimes just…stubborn. Like me, I suppose.”

Her eyes are glued to the murky water, still not meeting the woman’s face.

“So, Rey. Ben tells me you’re from the ocean. Is that true?”

A tight nod. Rey _is_ listening.

“Is the Pacific your home?”

Technically, the Eastern Sea of _Itämeri_ is her home, or at least where she was born and swam in for a few decades. When her pod left her, all sense of reason and direction left her instincts, causing her to swim aimlessly around the world. The Pacific is just her current stop. Her current home.

So Rey nods _yes._

A sign escapes the woman, chair creaking as she sits back. “Silly me, and here I was thinking you were from _Bothnia_ or _Ladoga_.”

Rey's entire body freezes.

Both those locations are _merenneitoalueet_ : Mermaid Territories.

Rey’s eyes and mouth are wide open in an expression of stunned surprise, now staring directly at Leia.

“Oh, or possibly _Vienanmeri_?”

Her head faintly shakes, disbelief still coursing through her veins. _Itämeri_ she mouths.

“ _Itämeri?”_

Rey nods. Leia’s smile consumes her face. “That would’ve been my next guess.”

The impact of her words knocks every wisp of air from her lungs, and she sits there, struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything.

Land dwellers aren’t supposed to know anything about mermaids, nevertheless the _territories_ they’re from and occupy.

Leia gently grabs her tightened hand tenderly. “I had my suspicions when Ben told me you washed up naked, but I knew the second he told me about the _merenneidon merkki,_ ” she turns Rey’s wrist over, “the mermaid’s marks.”

_How…?_

Rey points a shaky finger at the woman, brows raised.

“Oh no, _I’m_ not a mermaid, but…” she sighs, her secret now revealed as well. 

“My mother spoke of them when I was young; she’d tell me stories about the ocean, the freedom of swimming below the waves, stories about her homeland.

My father was from New York, a city opposite of where we are. He served in the Navy as a young man and stationed across the Atlantic in Estonia, next to the Gulf of Riga. One day, he was patrolling the docks of the base and saw a woman in the water, hair tangled in one of the parked ship’s propellers.

At first, he didn’t notice her tail at all, but when he started sawing at her hair, he glimpsed the silver below the water’s surface. She swam away immediately after he freed her, not even a single word shared between the two of them.”

Leia chuckles, lost in her story. “Little did he know, she’d swam off to make a deal with _Ved-ava,_ the only goddess capable of trading a mermaid’s tail for the ability to walk among men. My mother wanted to know why a human would be so compassionate for a stranger. She craved that love, the selfless kind.

The next day, a completely nude woman with hair botched to oblivion, showed up to my father’s base. She couldn’t speak, but my father knew it was the mermaid he’d saved from the docks. And that mermaid was my mother.”

Leia brings the cup to her mouth and takes a long, drown out sip, pausing to let Rey soak up the information.

There’s been… _others?_ Other mermaids who left the confines of the sea, and made the same deal as she did? Any interaction between a mortal and mermaid is forbidden, which is the reason she used the siren’s call...

“Are there any more of your kind on this side of the Pacific?” his mother quietly asks.

She shakes her head.

“…you’re Ben’s mermaid then, aren’t you? The one he saw at his house.”

A stiff nod from Rey.

“You saved him from drowning.”

It’s not a question; it’s a statement. Leia doesn’t even wait for a confirmation. She already knows.

“And you wiped his memory to keep you both safe, because our worlds aren’t meant to cross.”

How has this human, this _kind_ woman, deciphered Rey’s entire situation in less than ten minutes? Rey can’t help but drop her jaw a little.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell Ben anything.”

She pauses, tilting her chin up in though. “Although, maybe giving him a _hint_ will help him remember. He can be pretty stupid at times, but Ben is a good man. I just wish I had realized that before he…”

Leia clears her throat and rises from the seat, collecting the cup as she stands. “Well, that’s _his_ story to tell you. Ben and I hadn’t been on the _greatest_ of terms until recently. I trust him to not hurt you or himself, which is a rather new development, if I’m being honest.”

The backdoor suddenly creaks open, and heavy stomping echoes on the wooden floor.

“ _And speak of the devil…”_

Ben trudges to the table, looking extremely frustrated. Hair disheveled and eyes narrowed, not at Rey or his mother, but narrowed in irritation. It appears the call did not go very well.

“I have to go into fucking work tomorrow. On a Sunday.”

“What?”

“It’s a case emergency. The whole company could go down if I don’t go in tomorrow.”

Leia huffs, and says just under her breath, “ _Doesn’t sound too bad to me…_ ”

Ben doesn’t catch his mother’s quip and turns to Rey.

“Sorry I left you out here with my mother. I hope she was able to, uh, help out.”

Rey doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, but she _did_ help elevate some anxiety. She cheerfully nods to him.

His mother says from the kitchen, “Don’t take her anywhere tonight, Ben. She’s not schizophrenic. Just wash the wounds on her arms and use lots of Neosporin. She’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“And what do I do with her tonight?”

Leia returns to the table holding a small box, like Ben's. “Give her the guest room. I know there’s an extra bed somewhere in that enormous house. I’ll give you some of my old clothes, so she doesn’t have to wear those your oversized stuff _._ ”

“And tomorrow? When I have to drive into Portland and stay the night?”

_Where is_ Portland? She ponders, _Is it far?_

“That apartment is plenty big for you two. Hell, you could fit a family of twelve in that haughty penthouse of yours.”

Ben chews on nothing, thoughts filing in his brain. Rey couldn’t be more lost.

“Fine,” he gruffs out after a minute of silence, “but I need you to do some research so we can get Rey back home. She might have loved one’s worried sick about her.”

_The only loved one I can go to is here in this room._

But she can’t say that.

“Good,” Leia responds, then turns to Rey.

“Everything will be fine, dear. I know Ben hasn’t had a girl over for a least three years but-“

“Mom!" Ben all but shouts. "That is _not_ what is happening here. Jesus.”

His mother exits the room in a fit of giggles, climbing up the stairs near the entrance and disregarding Ben’s reddened cheeks and tinted ears. Rey hadn’t paid much attention to his ears before, but they’re quite large, just like him.

“Here. I think these are the only ones that will fit right. I haven’t been your size since 1988, so they’re pretty old and worn. Better than your current attire.”

She glances down to the seafood stained white shirt and dark, slouching pants riding close to Rey’s hipbone. The nicest thing Rey is currently wearing is Ben's borrowed jacket.

“And maybe a little shopping trip wouldn’t hurt before going into the office tomorrow?” she adds. “My stuff is ancient and a pretty girl like her should only be wearing designer.”

Rey takes the piles of clothes and nods a _thanks,_

"Thanks mom." Ben tells his mother. "Let me know what you find out. We should get going. I'll have to be up early for the drive."

He gives her a quick hug before leaving the warm house, walking down the stony pathway and buckling into the truck.

The entire drive home, Rey’s attention is captured by the starry sky and deep, dark ocean, excitement flooding her for the days to come. 

But slight dread accompanies the excitement as well.

Rey has only two more days after tomorrow's sunrise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr @dachenabritta  
> and twitter too! @dachenabritta
> 
> sisarensa  
> sisters style 
> 
> All the "territories" listed are actually seas/gulfs/bodies of water located near Finland, Ukraine and Estonia. Rey knows the "human" names for water just not land lol. 
> 
> See you all next chapter!


	10. kaupunki: a city

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, okay I KNOW it's been like 4 days. But there are reasons, one being that I was absolutely swamped with work. Another being the FACT THIS CHAPTER IS 3.3K WORDS LONG.
> 
> The writing juices are finally flowing again, so I'm going to try and update again soon. 
> 
> Also, mind the chapter count update. 15. Phew. This rollercoaster is going to be much wilder than anticipated.
> 
> enjoy!  
> DCB

Apparently, restaurants are not the only thing Rey is unfamiliar with.

When they arrive back to the cliff house, Ben realizes he’d forgotten to give Rey a pair of shoes. She didn’t seem to notice or ask (even if she couldn’t) which added to the list of her…quirks.

He leads Rey down the first story hallway to the guest bedroom and accompanying bathroom, having to scour unused cabinets for extra sheets and towels.

Ben shows Rey how to toggle the shower knob in order to adjust to the right temperature and pressure. She watches with amazement, and points to the hot water then out to the ocean, eyebrows raised. He has to explain that _no,_ the water does not come from the ocean, but rather pipes in the ground.

Alas, showers are also added to the list of things Rey apparently doesn’t understand.

He can’t remember the last time he’d had someone stay as a guest, considering all of his girlfriends over the years opted for staying in the metropolitan penthouses only. They didn’t bother with the coastal lifestyle. It was always something about the air being too salty, or the breeze being too breezy.

On the contrary, Rey seems to like the salty breeze and ocean even more than the four-million-dollar house.

She may like the breeze a little _too much_ though, because she emerges from the guest bathroom half an hour later, freshly showered and completely soaked, on her way to the deck to assumingely air dry.

_She must be from a country where toweling off is optional_ Ben rationalizes.

And he does _not_ stare at her naked figure. No matter how badly he wants to.

But the air tonight is frigid and he's sure Rey will nearly freeze to death if he allows the wind to air dry her.

Ben grabs a blanket before she heads past the glass doors, not caring that it’s going to be used as a towel, and wraps it around her. 

“You’ll catch a cold” he nearly whispers, “if you go outside like tha-”

Rey turns to face him, teeth chattering. His voice halts as her hazel eyes flicker up to his, so desperate to say something; something he can’t read.

A pain suddenly shoots through Ben’s brain, so sharp and raw that he takes a step away from Rey, clutching his temples. Images of crashing waves, _The Millennium,_ golden sand and… _hazel eyes._

These pains and sensations are occurring more often now, but Ben still blames the minor concussion from the boating accident. He hadn’t taken it as easy as the doctor would’ve liked the past couple days, which explains the blinding sting.

It doesn’t explain the vivid image of those eyes _, so much like hers._

He hastily excuses himself and heads straight to his room, closing and resting against the door. Ben takes deep breaths, still trying to comprehend the weird situation back in the living room.

He goes to bed that night, praying that Rey at least knows what a bed is.

□■■■□

The next morning, Ben unfortunately discovers that _no,_ Rey did not put two and two together, and slept on the couch all night. He finds her bundled under the several blankets he’d thrown over her yesterday.

Rey still refused to wear his mother’s clothes, no matter how much he pleads. He’s lucky he can even manage to get her to put on a fresh pair of pants, thrown by the odd way she motions to her legs when he offers the pants to her. It appears she trying to say her legs are out and here to stay.

She also eats twelve bowls of cereal. It’s a new house record.

Ben tries to remain in a good mood the morning before going into work on a _fucking Sunday,_ but the hour and half drive through spring break traffic dampens his disposition.

A Prius cuts him off on the highway, halfway to Portland. He feels his frown start.

Then another driver, decides to flip Ben off when he suddenly stops for a light.

And _another_ Prius ( _goddamn Oregon)_ turns a little too early on a red, narrowly missing Ben’s BMW.

His frown has now morphed to a full-blown _scowl._

Rey apparently takes notice to his gradual mood change when she turns away from watching out the window, and tugs on the arm of his work suit. When Ben stops at the light, he glances over to see Rey with both his air pods stuck into each nostril.

While any normal and _sane_ person would find this all-out disgusting, Ben finds it so endearing and funny, that he physically _snorts_ and covers his cheek-to-cheek grin with a hand.

Rey silently chuckles _and oh, he wishes he knew what her laugh sounded like_.

At 8:45 am, Ben and Rey enter the city limits of Portland. Ubiquitous skyscrapers, brick buildings and large crowds fill the streets of the downtown area, flashes of brightly colored hair common among the crowds.

Rey is mesmerized by the concrete landscape, hands and nose pressed against the clean window. At every stop sign, red light or yield, Ben glances over to her, her excitement so contagious.

His car is sent to valet, like usual, as Ben unthinkingly reaches for Rey’s hand in the parking garage of his building. He tells himself it’s for her safety, just like how you would hold a child’s hand, but he knows that's not entirely true.

They’re in the elevator, 20 stories up when it finally hits Ben _that he is taking her to work. To his job. His job of being the president of an entire company._

What is he supposed to do with her? It’s not like she can sit in on whatever meeting Snoke has called them in so suddenly for. It’s too late to take her to the penthouse. He can’t leave her in a café or restaurant, or god forbid a _hospital._

The panic increases as each floor level _dings_ through the elevator. He’s shocked he didn’t think of this _at all_ and was so causal to just _bring_ her along.

Rey obviously doesn’t know or care. She’s more interested in the glowing numbers above the elevator door.

The number _42_ blinks in finality and the doors whisk open. Already, Ben can tell very few people have been called in today. Whatever emergency this must be only pertains to the higher ups. Which means Ben will have to deal with _Hux_ today too.

Ben leads Rey through the chic, modern office space that is First Order Trade, a large hand brushing against the small of her back, as her brain seems to overload with the sheer amount of _stuff_ in the office. She’s particularly interested in the enormous freshwater tropical aquarium that sits adjacent to the reception desk, a pointing arm in front of Ben's face.

“Yes, yes, those are fish,” he dismisses her interest. “They’re not going anywhere. It’ll be here when we get back.”

They walk to far end corner of the 42nd floor to the higher ups’ offices and cubicles. Maybe she’ll be entertained enough that he can just leave her out here, but there’s also the chance she’ll start to snoop around the desks.

Maybe the break room? No, she’ll get stuck in the vending machine. For some reason he just…knows.

Ben finally decides on his office. The space is somewhat suffocating but hopefully the windows that don a view of downtown Portland, will give Rey plenty to look at.

“Gwen?” he asks “Why were you called in today?”

The woman looks up from the laptop, sweeping platinum hair from her eyes. Her desk sits right outside Ben’s office.

“Ah, hello Mr. Solo. I’m surprised Snoke didn’t say anything, but all managerial and presidential assistants were required to come in today, including me.”

Gwen takes a curious look to Rey. “Who the hell is this?”

There is no way Ben has the time or brain capacity to explain the entire situation. So just as he did with Maz, Ben thinks of a quick lie.

“This is Rey. She’s um…a friend of my mom’s. She’s moving here from Ukraine and she can’t speak any English.”

Ben thinks his fibbing skills are declining.

“Uh- _huh._ ” Gwen quirks an eyebrow to him, “and why is she following you around like a duckling?”

“Research? Yes, research. She’s researching American businesses so that she’ll be more confident for her immigration exam.”

His assistant looks even _more_ suspicious. “So…you decided to bring your mother’s Ukrainian friend to an emergency meeting for your firm?”

Ben did _not_ think this lie thoroughly enough.

“Err-yes. She’s a quick learner.” Ben looks around the hallway, and to the cubicles again. “Wait, where is everyone?”

“Conference room. You should probably be there anyways. My meeting concluded already.”

There’s no way he’s exposing Rey to both Snoke _and_ Hux, but Ben really doesn’t want to leave her alone. Lord knows what kind of gross, perverted moves Snoke will make on such a beautiful, young girl.

He comes up with an idea and makes sincere eye contact with Gwen.

“Gwendoline. You have always been the best assistant for me.”

“What do you want, B-“

“I need you to keep track of Rey just until the meeting concludes.”

Gwen looks out-right offended. “Excuse me? I am _not_ a babysitter. And no amount of sweet talking will bribe me to become one.”

His assistant Is typically a hard nut to crack, so he should have expected this. The only way to win over her favor is a much more _materialistic_ manner.

“Would you watch her for a new Birkin?”

Now Ben’s speaking Gwen’s language. Her face immediately softens, then morphs to a greedy grin. If there’s anything to the cold woman’s heart, it’s going to be a forty-thousand-dollar bag.

“Alright. I’ll do it.” She motions for Rey to sit in the chair next to her desk.

“And I want the _etoupe epsom gold_ edition. Specifically.”

Relief floods through Ben. Now he can deal with his asshole coworker and boss without worrying about Rey.

“Thank you, Gwen. You won’t regret this.” He starts half-running to the main conference room.

“I expect that bag on my desk, tomorrow at 9 am sharp, Ben Solo!” she yells at him, slightly out of hearing range.

□■■■□

The meeting appears to already be several minutes in when Ben bursts through the frosted glass doors. There’s only a dozen or so FOT higher ups present, including Hux, vice president, Mitaka, head of subsidiaries and Unamo, chief of human resources.

All eyes follow him as Ben scrambles to his seat at the head of the conference table, Snoke directly across from him.

Andrew Snoke is the CEO of First Order Trade. He’s a ruthless, manipulative boss, always intent on controlling Ben’s every move, but pretending to relinquish power at the same time.

He sits in front of the dimmed projector, both hands folded on top of the table and a disgusting grin on his lips. “Ben, how nice of you to join us.”

“I apologize for my tardiness, everyone. I hope I haven’t missed any critical information yet.”

No one has their laptops out, or even a notepad. Whatever is being discussed today will be quick but important. Snoke is not one to hold an emergency meeting, in the office, during the weekend.

Snoke starts, “Well, since our _president_ has finally taken it upon himself to arrive, I suppose I can announce the news to everyone.”

Everyone in the room is unsure _what_ kind of announcement Snoke is prepared to make, the air becoming thick with anxiety.

“As many of you already know, MG Rover Group is our largest international subsidiary, where we hold a majority of our stocks and trust funds. They have recently come under fire due to a rather… _large_ scandal pertaining to possible fraud.”

Mitaka, who is directly in charge of all subsidiaries, is visibly concerned, probably more so than his co-workers. “What type of fraud are they currently accused of?”

“Investors were paid returns out of their own money or that of other investors rather than from profits.” Snoke says, no emotion behind the bomb-drop.

Ben is in absolute shock. He knew either FOT or one of the companies under them would get caught in some kind of indignity sooner or later, but _this_ is the absolute worst case. “ _What?”_

“Because MG Rover’s reputation, finances and stocks are all tightly knit within ours, if they go down, so do we.”

“What are we supposed to do?” Unamo asks.

Snoke leans back in his chair and sighs. “Wilhuff Tarkin, the now _former_ president of MG Rover, is currently in jail. So, the position is currently vacant and in desperate need to be filled.”

“Will it be someone from their offices?” Mitaka asks.

“The EVCA has deemed anyone in that specific branch either fraudulent of under investigation, so no. The media is going to pick up on this mess sooner or later, so we’ll need to send someone over as soon as possible.”

The first-person Ben thinks of is Hux. The redhead is so power hungry and despairing, that he’s surprised Hux hasn’t jumped on top of the table and pleaded for the position already.

“And I have decided to give the position to Ben.” Snoke smirks.

Ben freezes in his seat. The offer is not a pay cut and there’s no less power in the position; there’s just one major, very _important_ detail relating to MG Rover Group.

They’re in London.

England.

As in, _halfway across the fucking world._

All heads have turned to him, burning stares awaiting his response. Ben opens his mouth and closes it a few times, gob smacked and unsure if he should answer with gratitude or…something else.

“Uh, thank you. I guess.” That’s as gratuitous as he’s going to get. “But what will happen to my position with First Order Trade?”

Hux, surprisingly is the one to answer. “The position of president will obviously go to _me._ ”

There’s a sneaking suspicion in the back of Ben’s head. The more he observes Hux’s grin, and the pompous way he straightens his back, the more he realizes-

“Did you inform Hux of this news before me?”

It’s more of a statement than a question because Snoke never answers.

Ben is enraged. “You tell the _vice_ president such significant news, but don’t have to time or care to inform me?!”

“You were still on Bereavement Leave, if I’m not mistaken. I didn’t want to interrupt your mourning period for a man who left you to rot in jail.”

The last straw of tension snaps.

Ben shoots up from his chair, fists balled and face becoming red from anger. Mitaka and another head-of-whatever, physically hold Ben back as he tries to round the table to Snoke.

He thrashes against the men’s hold, letting loose a feral side no one in the room, besides Snoke and possibly Hux, has ever been privy to. It would be embarrassing if the veil of white, hot rage was lifted enough to see his own actions.

“Calm down!” Unamo shrieks, the only woman in the room, “Get ahold of yourself, Mr. Solo!”

His heart rate slows a bit as he stops his movement, eyes downcast.

“Sorry. I just-I do not appreciate my father being brought up in this _environment_.” Ben mumbles. He can’t bring himself to look at Snoke.

The silence throughout the conference room is defining.

“I’d like to talk to Ben in private for a moment.” Snoke finally says.

Without another moment’s hesitation, everyone shuffles out of the door, including Hux, as Snoke approaches Ben’s much taller and larger figure.

“Look at you,” Snoke whispers, despite no one else in the room. “Pathetic. I give you the time to, how did you word it, _recover,_ and this is how you return to me? I thought your father’s death would finally sever ties to your troubled past, but it seems you have proven me wrong.”

That’s what Ben had assumed too, the day his father had died, but Han Solo’s death had done quite the opposite. He couldn’t sleep or eat, his mother was still hesitant to even speak to him, and work was the _last_ thing he wanted to worry about.

“Remember, my boy,” Snoke reaches up and grabs Ben’s chin, “who bailed you out, who cleared your name, when your parents threw you to the dogs. When _your_ family turned against you, when _they_ didn’t believe you. And when I did.”

There’s nothing for Ben to say back. He can’t formulate an answer even if he wanted to.

Snoke begins to stroll out of the office, wicked gentleness in each step.

“I expect an answer by tomorrow afternoon.”

With that, Andrew Snoke leaves the room.

_This is too much_.

It’s the only thought looping though Ben’s overwhelmed brain.

_This is all too much._

A heavy rasping sounds from the door, snapping Ben out of his anger induced trance. When it creaks open, a very concerned, sweating Gwen pokes her head in.

“Be- Mr. Solo, your… _friend_ is currently sitting in the front office’s fish tank. And when I tried to take her out, she bit me.”

He should’ve warned Gwen about Rey’s fascination of the fish tank when the first entered, but also about her fascination about the ocean and water _in general._

Ben _bolts_ out of the conference room, following Phasma through the narrowed hallways back out to the reception’s desk. Just like his assistant said, Rey is sitting in the 120-gallon tank.

Much to his utter distaste, there’s already a small crowd watching her. And it is _not_ a good picture.

Ben is unsure _how_ Rey managed to remove the tank’s thirty-pound cover, but alas she half-floats in the filtered water, grabbing at the expensive tropical fish and then bringing them to her mouth, and then _jesus christ-_

_“Rey no!”_ he runs to the tank and slaps the designer fish from her hand.

She looks puzzled and even a bit angry. Did she think what she was doing is _normal?_

“We can go get some real lunch after this. Let me help you out of here.”

He grabs Rey by the armpits and begins to lift her like one would do for a misbehaving toddler.

His coworkers are absolutely mesmerized and horrified by the scene playing in front of them. Their boss quite literally just fished an adult woman out from an office fish tank.

“…what part of Ukraine did you say she’s from?” Gwen hesitantly asks.

Ben doesn’t want to lie anymore, but he can’t tell a truth he doesn’t know either. “I didn't. I’ll see you all soon.”

And with that, Ben Solo, president of First Order Trade, leaves his office, gripping the hand of a soaked, mute woman.

□■■■□

Hux and Phasma watch with curious eyes as their boss walks into the elevator, the girl’s oversized clothes dripping the whole way.

“You know what’s weird?" Gwen turns to Hux. “I’ve seen that girl before.”

“I was thinking her swimming like some scuba instructor in the office freshwater tank would qualify as strange,” Hux grits out.

“Well yes, that was _weird_ , but I’ve seen her picture on the internet.”

Gwen pulls out her sleek phone, searching through a couple social medias until she’s on Facebook.

“Hold on, let me find it.”

She saved the post earlier to her timeline and pulls it up to show Hux.

It’s a photo of a woman’s face, so blurry it’s hard to make out her features. The caption reads: REAL MERMAID FOUND!!! CURRENTLY ON LOSE, CONTACT SAUL PRESBIRGER WITH ANY INFO.!!

Although the photo is grainy and hard to make out, the woman who accompanied Ben, who was in the fish tank _does_ resemble her.

Actually, she resembles her a _lot._

Of course, the whole thing about her being a mermaid is bullshit, but the similarity is intriguing, especially for how secretive Ben was about her.

“Huh.” Gwen quietly pipes out, squinting down at her screen.

“Well, maybe _Mr. Solo_ is hiding something important from us, whatever that may be. Mind sending me that post, Gwendoline?”

The woman peers at Hux, uncertainty on her face. “I’ll send it on one condition. You do not contact that man. That girl may be in witness protection or something.”

“Of _course,_ my dear,” he remarks with a snide.

_“You have my word.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact! MG Rover Group was a real company in the UK. They went bankrupt because of some scandal in 2008, not the one in the story, but something involving cars. idk.
> 
> fishtank!rey is my new favorite Rey btw. Anyone who disagrees can fight me. 
> 
> i'm on tumblr @dachenabritta !


	11. hymy: the smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let me just preface this with a few things.
> 
> \- I live in Los Angeles, where protests and riots are currently happening minutes away from me. It's a scary time to be in America. I am a huge supporter of BLM and always have been. 
> 
> \- With this, writing has become difficult to concentrate on. Which is why this chapter is almost 3 days late.
> 
> \- I know it seems rather silly to be so political on a chapter update for a mermaid au Reylo fanfiction but I believe it just needs to be addressed during these times. 
> 
> \- Off topic, but I updated the chapter count. Again. 
> 
> With that said, stay safe everyone 
> 
> DCB

Rey sits soaking wet, arms angrily crossed and _hungry._ She’d eaten plenty of that sugary stuff at Ben’s house, but a mermaid’s stomach is insatiable, legs or not.

The car hums as they twist and turn through the streets, Rey still too infuriated to even watch out the window.

She doesn’t understand why Ben is angry as well, considering _she_ did nothing wrong. Fish are meant for eating and they were conveniently located in an easy-to-grab dish.

He’d been stressed since daybreak, his mood so grouchy that Rey’s main intent during the long car ride was to make him smile. And she did. But only for that moment.

That smile has not returned again.

“If you were so hungry, you should have said something, _not_ tried to eat the goddamn fish from a fish tank,” he growls out next to her.

Ben doesn’t realize his mistake until he turns to Rey, her eyebrows nearly to her hairline and chin down as if to say _excuse me?_

“O-Okay,” he stutters, “so I _know_ you can’t actually _say_ anything to me, but you can, I don’t know, gesture or something?”

There’s a land dweller gesture, one she learned from the teenage boys on the beaches, that Rey definitely _wants_ to show Ben.

Instead, she huffs and faces the window.

The car pulls into another underground building and they enter the room-lifty-thing, like Ben’s other building. Rey just stares at the ground, not looking at the glowing numbers like she wants to.

The “penthouse”, if Rey recalls the name correctly, looks similar to Ben’s other place, but it’s smaller and more compact. The decorations are darker too; grey walls, black furniture, no pictures. Her clothes drip onto the mahogany floors.

Rey immediately prefers and misses the cliffside house. And the ocean view.

This place is colder and detached, just like Ben’s current state.

She’s beginning to see the correlation between Ben’s life here in Portland and his mood.

“Welcome to penthouse number one,” he says, setting down a few bags he brought from the car. “Let me show you the guest room where you can shower _and_ sleep.”

She doesn’t follow his emphasis. Rey had slept last night in the exact spot she’d slept earlier yesterday.

This room is even smaller than the other guest room; the bed is small and squeaky when Ben sets down a few bags atop it. There’s no windows and only a faint glow from a light above.

“I know this isn’t _much_ , but it’s better than a hospital bed. Or a shelter, I guess.”

He begins to pull out a few items from a bag he’d filled with his mother’s itchy clothes. She'd already put up a fight with him this morning _not_ to wear them, no matter how kind it was for Leia to lend them, but they are downright _uncomfortable._

Ben lays various items in front of her, expecting her to change.

Yes, her current clothes are still currently soaked but she’s a _mermaid._ Rey can handle being wet. It’s nothing new.

She turns her chin to the wall and crosses her arms, showing as much attitude to the unwanted garb as possible.

Ben sighs dramatically and starts gathering the clothes back up, shoving them roughly back into the bag.

“ _Fine._ Since you’re so set on not wearing dry clothes that will actually _fit_ you, enjoy sitting around in sopping wet ones for the rest of today.”

His sardonic tone forces Rey to snap her head back to Ben, the emotions within the room becoming too heated too quickly. He’s exasperated and she’s bratty. It’s a bad combination.

Ben takes a deep breath, sighing, and trying to cool down the situation. “Look, I don’t understand _where_ you’re from or _who_ you are Rey, but this is just…too much. I can only do so much.”

Both of Ben’s hands reach into his hair as he leaves the cramped room. Then the guilt begins to wash over Rey.

She’s not actively _trying_ to push him to his limits. But it appears she has.

Rey just misses the man who cried at the cliff house three weeks ago; the man who stared at her with such compassion during their sandy, shared kiss; the Ben who laughed along with her today as the sun rose into the sky.

Human emotions are _complicated._

Rey stares down at the tousled bag of clothes. The wet fabric against her body is uncomfortable but not nearly as uncomfortable as those…things.

She chooses the loosest options she can find and removes her damp outfit. They’re nothing like the softness of Ben’s shirt and pants, but they’ll do.

And Ben will be happy if she just listens.

A few minutes later, Rey enters the main room dressed in a pair of fuchsia pants and an itchy pale blue shirt covered in images. She resists the urge to scratch at her arms or legs in front of Ben.

He sits on the couch, staring down at his metal box, and looks up when Rey stomps her foot on the ground; one of the only possible sounds she can make to alert him of her presence. 

Ben looks up, face still distorted in annoyance, but his expression lightens when he catches onto her outfit.

Then he starts _laughing._

“I’m sorry- I just” he breaks in between a giggle, “I can see why you wouldn’t want to wear those… _God_ those clothes are gaudy.”

His laughter is infectious and soon Rey’s grin morphs to a full smile. Her heart feels lighter, like the atmosphere of the room.

Ben rises from the couch and approaches her small figure, smile still plastered to his face. He inspects the clothes, and motions with a swirl of his finger to have her turn around. Rey spins slowly, giving him a full view of the _atrocity_ she’s wearing.

“That’s it. My mother _was_ right.”

Rey doesn’t understand at first.

“I’m taking you shopping.”

○°°°○

Shopping, Rey learns, is _exhausting._

Do humans enjoy doing this? There’s so much walking involved, and Rey’s brain is sent into overdrive with all the items around her.

The perfumed and noisy store is packed with land dwellers, primarily women, and repetitive, perky music plays on loop. There are white pillars scattered throughout the giant room and endless racks of clothes, bags and little trinkets.

Shopping is not affecting Ben as much.

He’s not overwhelmed like Rey and he’s actively grabbing items and piling them together for her. When they had first arrived, Ben had expected her to go and choose some items, but Rey having no idea where to even begin, just stood frozen at the entrance, the sensory overload of the store making her dizzy.

He circles around a couple racks, eyeing with uncertainty, but then grabs a few more things.

After wandering around the main floor for a solid half hour, Ben seems satisfied with the choices he’s selected. “Here,” nearly shoving the pile into her arms, “try these on. I think you’ll like them.”

The colors are neutral and quiet, the fabrics are soft, and they all appear oversized. Much like the Ben’s borrowed clothes, just new.

With a shrug, she drops all the clothes on a nearby table and reaches to grasp the ends of her shirt, promptly pulling the garment up and over her head.

Her vision clears of the fabric and she extends the shirt to Ben. But he doesn’t move. Or breath. He just stands there, petrified and red-faced.

Rey tilts her head, confused about his reaction. He’s seen her torso plenty times now.

“Yo-you can’t just _undress_ out here…” Ben grabs the shirt and covers her chest, glancing around the crowds of people shopping. Rey looks around as well and notices many, _many_ people are staring.

“There’s a place-a _private_ place you can go and try these clothes on.”

He searchs for whatever private place he speaks of to lock eyes with a group of women, all staring at the scene before them.

Ben gulps _loudly._

One of the women strides over to them as Ben struggles to pull Rey’s shirt over her head, her arms flailing in a rather goofy manner.

“Can I help you folks with anything today?” the woman asks. She’s short in stature, plump grinning cheeks and a hand placed onto a titled hip.

“Um, yes,” Ben finally squeaks out, “she just needs some help trying on some clothes.”

The woman gives Rey a look, head to toe then to the pile of garments Rey had dumped onto the table.

“I can see that, Miss…?”

“Rey. Her name is Rey.” Ben doesn’t even give the poor woman a second. He’s had to explain her silence in a variety of ways already. “Sorry, she’s mute. I do most her communicating.”

_Looks like Ben is sick of making up stories_. The woman is thrown by his abruptness.

“Alright then, Miss Rey, my name is Rose, and I can take care of you today. How about we head to a dressing room?” She begins to gather up the pile and motions for Rey to follow her.

The woman stops mid-walk to speak over her shoulder to Ben.

“By the way...you got a budget, buddy?”

Ben sticks nervous hands in his pockets. “Uh, no.”

Her grin is even wider. “ _Awesome._ ”

○°°°○

“Ooo! Try _this_ one on! It’s perfect for your slim figure!”

Rose throws yet _another_ dress over the room’s door, this one much too flashy for Rey’s taste. She accepts it nonetheless, shrugging it over her shoulders and down her body. The fabric is tacky and sticky. 

She opens the door to show a very excited Rose. “Oh yes! That one is _fantastic!_ I’ll have to go get you a strapless bra though. I’ll be right back!”

Bras, Rey learns, are the _worst._ They’re tight and suffocating, and Rey cannot wrap the fact of _why any human woman would purposefully wear these monstrous contraptions._

Rey has also been given, what did Rose call them? Oh yes, _panties._ Apparently, there’s somefemale _parts_ land dwellers are supposed to conceal underneath their clothing. They’re as useless and uncomfortable as the bra.

The chipper saleswoman returns with even more clothes and hands the item she was so keen on finding to Rey. It’s yet _another_ bra and Rey shakes her head _no_. One is enough.

“But it’ll go so much better with that dress! You’ve picked nothing but loungewear. You’ll need something for bar hopping or partying,” Rose wiggles her brows suggestively "…or maybe for date night? With tall, dark and handsome?”

A blush creeps onto Rey's cheeks. Hearing someone else speak about Ben in such way elicits a weird flutter in her stomach, her breath caught on Rose’s words.

So, Ben _is_ considered good-looking, even to land dwellers.

Not that she needed assurance or anything.

“He _is_ your boyfriend. I totally called it.”

Rey doesn’t respond or gesture. She doesn’t understand what a relationship entails when regarding someone as a “boyfriend”.

Rose picks up on the slight hesitation and pinking cheeks, withdrawing the bra. “You need something better. Lacier. Something that’s going to send that man of yours head over heels. If he’s not already. I think, _hmmm_ , yes.” The small woman nearly _runs_ from down the hallway and returns with more bras and panties, this time much, _much_ skimpier.

“Try on the red ones. With the garter, too. They’re known to win a guy’s heart in just _one_ night.”

_Win a man's heart?_

_Now_ Rey is listening intently.

□■■■□

Ben wraps up his call with his representative at Hermès, ensuring Gwen’s bag will be delivered on time as her reward for watching Rey. In his personal opinion, she doesn’t deserve it, considering Rey was in a fish tank rather under the watchful eye of his assistant, but a promise is a promise.

He ignores the six or so missed calls from Hux. He's not going to let work ruin the rest of his day. Or his mood.

The saleswoman, Rose, if he remembers correctly, approaches him sans Rey. Normally, Ben is an active shopper, but today’s _adventures_ have worn him to a useless male companion, much like the other men around him, sitting and waiting for their wives, girlfriends and daughters to wrap up their shopping trips.

The lively, dark haired woman practically skips over to Ben’s resting place of a nearby bench to the fitting rooms.

“Alright, Mr. Moneybags. Your girlfriend is awaiting you and your credit card.”

_Since when are the Nordstrom saleswomen so valiant?_

“Uh, okay. Lead the way.” Ben is unsure what else he’s supposed to say. He doesn’t even attempt to correct Rose’s misunderstanding.

Past the racks and tables of neatly folded clothes, Ben spots the sleek black table and cash register, then next to it a hefty pile of hangers, clothes and shoes.

At first, he doesn’t recognize Rey. Her unruly hair is combed through, she appears to be wearing light makeup and her outfit has been changed to a simple, white fitted t-shirt and cropped, wide legged pants. Rey seems much more comfortable in her new choices, not to mention how nicely the pants wrap around her tiny waist, flaring past long, lithe legs he could practically-

Ben stops his rude ogling and fishes his wallet out. It appears that Rose has already scanned all the items and she begins to load them into neat, paper bags. The register's display screen is purposely turned away from view.

“Is there a reason I can’t see my grand total?”

The saleswoman _snorts._ “I think it would be better if you didn’t buddy.” She throws a pair of sparkly sandals into the current bag she's packing. “I’ve watched enough men cry at this cash register.”

Ben is eternally grateful for his massively deep pockets right now.

Though he _was_ the one who said no budget.

Whatever.

The over-all count of bags is nine, all in various sizes and shapes. Ben inserts his card to the chip reader, and then it hits him: _where did the makeup come from?_

“Um, Rey? When did you get your makeup done?” He gestures to her mascaraed eyelashes and filled brows.

Her finger points to Rose, who’s focused on confirming Ben’s credit card.

She looks up, catching up with the conversation. “Oh yea, we had one of the cosmetologists from the _Nars_ bar bring up a few samples. Never hurts to highlight a girl’s natural beauty, right?”

With a satisfied grin, Rose hands him his receipt, tenaciously folded to hide the bottom.

“Have a nice day, you two.” She turns warmly to Rey. “And good luck to you. He’s a lucky guy.”

Rey nods embarrassingly, gathering the bags quickly, not even waiting for Ben to catch up. He has no clue what conspired between the two women in the dressing room, but it’s been almost three hours since they entered Nordstrom and Ben’s stomach growls.

Shit, and Rey was _already_ hungry before they went shopping.

“Wait Rey-hold on, slow down.” Her walking has _vastly_ improved.

She stops mid-step, not even heading the correct way to the parking garage.

“How about we grab some lunch close to here? There’s a public market next door.” He begins to take the heavy bags from her straining grasp. “And we can drop these off in the car. That way we don’t have to lug them around.”

Rey nods at his idea, and they head back to the car and throw her new wardrobe into the trunk. The public market is just across the street, so there’s no need to re-park his car.

Stalls line the Montavilla Farmer's Market, each vendor livelier than the next. They overflow with rainbow produce and fresh food; fishmongers yell prices for the catch of the day.

It’s cacophony of sound, overwhelming even for Ben, and when he glances down to Rey’s awed expression, he can almost see the smoke whistling from her ears.

Ben grabs her arm gently, then loops it over his forearm, a dainty hand tucked neatly into the crease of his elbow. She’d been avoiding his gaze since they left the store, but now she watches his actions and tilts her gaze up to meet his, a satisfied smile adorning her face.

He can’t help but smile either.

At first, they stroll peacefully, walking through the crowded alley, but both of their stomachs growl simultaneously when the smell of fresh bao buns fill the air.

Rey is already halfway through her bun before he even pays.

Ben has never met a woman so _hungry._ She feasts like a starving frat boy or some kind of competitive eater. He would never admit it to anyone but watching her shovel down food at such an impressive rate, with no end in sight, is an immediate turn on.

This woman is an enigma and now he’s developing an _eating kink_.

Lunch continues as they stop at various vendors, enjoying the tastes of pad Thai noodles, fried chicken, fresh nectarines and a plethora of snacks Ben can’t recall. Rey never loses hold of his forearm, even when she needs both hands to eat something.

Ben can’t honestly remember a time he was this happy.

It’s been years of solitude, years of dark, degrading work, and years of unsated melancholy. Walking through the farmers market with a perfect stranger at his elbow is practically a dream. It’s not a _typical_ scenario. He doesn’t care.

They approach the artisan vendors towards the end of the market, browsing through the handmade goods and imported products. Ben hardly shops for items in such low-budget stalls such as the ones they peruse. It’s Rey who studies each and every unique product, completely enraptured.

There’s a tiny stand littered with hand-pounded jewelry that Rey shows extra interest in. Her eyes trace the earrings, rings and necklaces, all beautiful and obviously handmade. A small, silver bracelet catches her attention. Her fingers run over the chain’s pattern, shaped to look like roaring waves connected to smaller bits of silver.

The artisan, an older Native American woman, takes note of Rey’s interest. “Would you like to try it on?”

Rey is unsure at first, but then holds her arm forward as the woman wraps the soft chain around wrist.

“Ah, a perfect fit.” The woman says. “And at a good price. Only twenty for this fine piece.”

Judging by Rey’s expression, Ben already knows she wants it. He’s got some cash in his pocket, and he digs for a moment before handing two twenties over to the woman. “Keep the change,” he tells the saleswoman.

Rey _does_ let go of his arm now, just so she can feel and twist the bracelet around her arm. He has no idea why she’s so captivated by something so simple. Other women in Ben’s life always wanted bigger. Shinier. More diamonds. More bling. _More._

Rey is nothing like that.

He takes her hand into his own and inspects the silver for himself, flipping her palm over to see the complete chain, when he notices something.

“Huh, that’s odd.” Ben says with a raised brow. “I could have _sworn_ you had three tattoos, not two.”

He looks further up her arm, _really_ looks.

“And your arms. There’s no more red marks.”

Did he give her Neosporin at the cliff house? Maybe his mother did. He’s never seen such abrasions heal overnight. And Ben could’ve _sworn_ there were three tattooed marks, not two.

Ben must be much more exhausted than he initially led on to be. And it’s only four in the afternoon. 

Rey withdraws her arm quickly, hiding her arm before sheepishly looking down to the cobblestone below them. “So-Sorry,” he bites out, the rudeness becoming apparent. “I didn’t mean to grab at you.”

_Asshole alert_ Ben’s brain screams at him _you are being an asshole._

"What can I do to make up for, well, for this morning, and at the office, and the car…and just now.” _Jesus_ , has he really been this grumpy and grabby all day? “How about a nice dinner tonight?"

Her eyes snap up to his. _That_ grabs her attention.

“You bought some fancier items, right? There’s got to be something formal in that monsoon of clothes I purchased today.”

She nods.

Ben motions for her arm, asking for permission, but Rey instead tucks her arm into his once again.

“Well, let’s head back to the apartment and rest up before dinner then.”

A smile is the only confirmation Ben needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [These](https://shop.nordstrom.com/s/zella-getaway-flowy-high-waist-crop-wide-leg-pants/5460161?origin=coordinating-5460161-0-1-FTR-recbot-recently_viewed_snowplow_mvp&recs_placement=FTR&recs_strategy=recently_viewed_snowplow_mvp&recs_source=recbot&recs_page_type=category&recs_seed=0&color=BLACK%5D) are the pants Rey buys and wears at Nordstrom's. 
> 
> Also, if you're a Portland native, plz don't kill me but I basically turned the Montavilla market into Pike's Place in Seattle, WA instead. Sorry. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> I know you all love sweet Ben, but work really turns him into a butt. I'm not excusing his anger or assholery, just something to think about.
> 
> see you all next chapter! (whenever that may be)


	12. päivällinen: a dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to another update! Sorry again for the delay. It's for the exact same reasons as the last. The protests are still strong here, and we are finally seeing some success! If you follow me on tumblr or twitter(@dachenabritta), I post donation links to local LA foundations, aiding the BLM movement. 
> 
> Also, since I received such a positive reaction last chapter here are the garments that will be present this chapter! Not really any spoilers, since Rey has seen them all lol
> 
> [This dress](https://shop.nordstrom.com/s/astr-the-label-so-smitten-ruched-minidress/5488033?origin=category-personalizedsort&breadcrumb=Home%2FWomen%2FClothing%2FDresses&color=tangerine%20multi%20floral) is the one Rey wears to dinner.
> 
> [This](https://shop.nordstrom.com/s/dita-von-teese-julies-roses-suspenders/5506048?origin=category-personalizedsort&breadcrumb=Home%2FWomen%2FClothing%2FLingerie%2C%20Hosiery%20%26%20Shapewear%2FLingerie%20Accessories&fashioncolor=Red&color=rose%20red) is the lingerie. 
> 
> [This dress](https://shop.nordstrom.com/s/french-connection-sundae-metallic-whisper-cotton-sheath-dress/5532441?origin=coordinating-5429219-0-3-PDP_1-recbot-also_viewed_graph&recs_placement=PDP_1&recs_strategy=also_viewed_graph&recs_source=recbot&recs_page_type=product&recs_seed=5532441&color=POWDER) is option #2, aka the gross dress from last chapter. 
> 
> **CW: mentions of abuse, rape and drug dealing**
> 
> Enjoy!  
> DCB

After disposing all the shopping bags to Rey’s room, Ben removes his suit jacket, loosens his tie and flops against the couch, passing out in mere seconds.

While Rey could probably use a nap herself, and the idea of joining him on the couch is almost irresistible, she needs the time to plan, dress and scheme for tonight.

In the guest room, _her_ room, she begins to push the older clothes to the ground until Rey remembers the charity behind them. No matter how hideous they may be, they’re still Leia’s. And they were given to her in good graces.

She unloads the contents of the bags, setting shoes down on the floor and the clothes on top of the mattress.

Rey doesn’t _quite_ understand what a fancy dinner entails. Is the food different? Do they dine in a penthouse much like the one they’re in?

Rose mentioned something about “a date night”, and the accompanying clothes were all dresses…which means no pants.

_Sweet. No pants._

Her long legs will be on full display tonight. 

Sifting through the assortment of colors and fabrics, Rey lays out a few options. The first dress is breezy and soft, more for normal wear. It won’t hug her curves or show off her legs well. The second is the _awful_ option that she’d squeezed into earlier. It’s a silver monstrosity and it _does_ flaunt her slight figure but-

_That_ one may have to go into Leia’s pile.

The third is a thinner dress with a yellow and orange floral pattern scattered around the fluttering sleeves, skirt and hem. When she’d tried it on within the tiny stall of the fitting room, she’d liked the way it’d highlighted her arms, and cupped around her chest.

Hopefully, dress number three will be appropriate to wear. Rey hasn’t _quite_ followed all human fashion and culture rules yet, but her long session with the peppy saleswoman really did wonders.

She’d learned a plethora of information, crammed within the time she spent with Rose.

Rose told her of the idea of a strip tease, where a woman can wear clothes over intricate undergarments and then slowly undress to reveal the attire. The idea seems…silly to Rey, but it’s some form of a female fertility dance, and she’s growing desperate.

Rey removes her current outfit, including the softer undergarments, and _huffs_ at the current situation.

The nicknamed “Sex Bomb Combo” is a complicated muddle of straps, lace and clasps, designed to be as confusing as possible. Rose instructed the way, but even with such detailed directions, it may be too much.

The panties go on easy. The only tricky part is switching balance from left leg to right leg.

The garter is also stress-free, cinching effortlessly at her nipped waist.

The _bra_ on the other hand, is another task all together.

Every time her hands reach around to clasp the tail ends of the _blasted_ contraption, she misses. Rey tries again and again and _again_ until she notices the sun beginning to sink in the sky, pink and orange streaking the clouds.

Just _how_ long has she been struggling? Did she lose herself in thought when choosing her dress?

Although time is precious, it appears to be rushing past her quicker than usual.

An idea _finally_ clicks, and Rey presses the cups to her back, the clasps now in the front. With the visual aid, she fastens the hooks successfully after an hour of wrestling with the bra. She whips it around her torso and slips her arms through the straps.

_Voitto._

Victory.

Rey twirls around in her new get-up, letting the elastic straps attached to the garter bump against her legs and hips. She hasn’t figured out _what_ they’re exactly used for, but the red drapes nicely against the expanse of her thighs.

Once finished with her playful self-flaunting, Rey slips the dainty dress over her head and shoulders.

The fabric is much like the clouds above; breezy, soft and delicate.

A feeling she never feels beneath the cold, crashing waves.

The interlocking teeth on the dress are much easier to seal than the bra. It’s vertical and quick, zipping up the length of her backside.

Rey obsessively checks then re-checks her outfit in the bathroom’s mirror. She’s anxious about tonight. But not about the date.

This is it. Tonight will be the night she gets her voice back.

If Rey heads all of Rose’s advice with careful and calculated precision, she’ll be able to win his heart in mere _minutes_.

Heck, if he _also_ confesses to her, she’ll be transformed to a mortal. Permanently.

She glances at her wrist. Ben noticed the marks earlier. She knows they are the result of _Ved-ava’s_ magic, just like the healing of her arms and face.

The marks are a reminder; a reminder that time is slowly ticking. Tomorrow is her last day with legs and if Ben doesn’t confess by tomorrows sunset, then she’ll…

Well, Rey is unsure of what will happen to her.

She doubts anything good.

Wanting to drift away from any more frightening thoughts, Rey begins to focus on dinner and the rest of the evening. She smooths her dress, takes a deep breath and opens the door, walking out to the main living area.

Much to her surprise, Ben is already awake and leaning against the corner in the kitchen. He’s drinking a glass of milk and when he looks at her, he chokes and the liquid shoots from his nose.

He thumps against his chest, regaining his breath. His face is flushed pink, likely from the sputtering and lack of air.

“W-Wow, you look, I mean,” he scans the mess before him, “this is so gross, but you look- “

A gulp.

“You look amazing.”

Ben grabs a towel from the counter and mops his chin, then the floor. “I uh, need to go change before we go. Obviously.”

She nods slightly, the feeling of a blush beginning to creep up her neck and cheeks.

At his bedroom door, he turns and gives her look-over once more.

Then he _grins_ at her.

The smirk sends a flash of lighting down Rey’s spine. Her heart is racing. Pleasantly. 

Not like the painful palpations she felt when she had fins.

_Is this the feeling of mortal love? The selfless compassion Leia’s mother sought? The hunger, the ache of desire?_

The realization dawns upon her. Why didn’t she notice earlier?

Her heart has already been won over.

○°°°○

Rey’s epiphany has now watered her down to a shy, scattered mess. She can’t meet Ben’s eyes the entire car ride, or during the short walk to the restaurant, afraid of heat returning to her face again.

_She’s_ the mermaid. The siren. It should be the _mortal_ who's blushing and timid. Not her.

Ben is unsure how to gauge her hesitance. He speaks a couple times to her, but she only answers his _yes_ or _no_ questions, nothing more.

_This is embarrassing_ Rey scolds herself.

They’re brought at a small table with white cloth draped over top and small dishes arranged with precision, Ben pulling her chair out for her before sitting.

All she can do it stare at the floral centerpiece resolutely placed, studying the small petals and drooping leaves.

_Rauhoitu, Reija._

She’s supposed to seduce him after dinner, and she’s currently ignoring his gaze, voice and well, _him._

“…Is there something wrong?” Ben finally quips through the awkward silence.

She doesn’t move, still staring at the flowers.

“I’m sorry about earlier. When I got angry about the fish tank, and then the clothes and about your arm.” His voice slightly cracks. “I know the culture in your country must be so much different than here.”

A woman approaches them, setting menus besides the arranged plates. She and Ben exchange a few words, something about ‘wine’ and ‘bread’, then he redirects his attention back to Rey.

“Work brings out a…not so nice side of me. I just can’t help it. It’s the reason why I was already in such a bad mood. My boss, well he-

-he’s not the nicest man in the world. I wish I could walk away from him, and my job but I-I… _can’t_.”

His tone softens immensely, chest leaning farther into the white cloth.

“Do you know why I didn’t take you straight to the police when I found you?”

_This_ catches her attention. And Rey’s eyes finally snap to meet his.

“Well…the reason is because I was _afraid_. I was afraid they’d identify you and return you right back into the arms of your abuser. Just like other girls I knew.”

Rey is not following. Ben runs a stressed hand through his hair and pulls his chair closer to table edge.

“Man, I haven’t talked about this for a while,” he sighs, “I know you’ll keep it confidential anyways. Not like you can tell anyone.”

No response, _of course,_ but he has her full attention.

“I attended school in New York, Cornell University, for my undergrad. I didn’t have any friends, but I come from a wealthy family in Upper West Side, so naturally the other rich boys caught whiff of my parent’s wealth and wanted to get on my good side.

At first, they annoyed the hell out of me, but the feeling of inclusion, of a friend group after years of being the lumbering outcast, changed me. I became happier, more social. I started to drink. And party.

We went to _God know_ s how many frat parties, too many to count, and it all became a blur. I wasn’t coherent most nights when we went out, but one night sobered me completely.

Turns out these rich boys _loved_ to beat up girls, _sorority girls_ in particular. It was a disgusting power move, and when I saw one of them that night beating up a sophomore girl, I grabbed him and punched him. And…well, I almost beat him to death, if I’m being honest.”

Ben takes a breath, collecting himself, as Rey patiently swallows the information.

“I had no idea what was happening beneath the façade of their group, but they kept this count, this _tally,_ of which girls to beat.

I took that sophomore to the E.R that night, explaining what had happened, and the nightmarish _tally_ that my so called “friends” were keeping.

And you know what the cops did about all this? About this _horrendous_ situation?”

Rey shakes her head _no. She doesn’t know._

“Nothing. They did fucking _nothing_. A cop delivered her _straight_ back to her sorority, no report filed, and nothing done about the information I gave them. And the boy who beat her up? Yea, it was her _boyfriend._ The police basically served her on a silver tray straight back to her abuser.”

This explains why Ben was so concerned when she woke up, asking about the marks on her arm and bruise on her cheek. He was scared he’d repeat a terrible mistake.

“A couple months later, news about their _score count_ leaked around campus and a surplus of other ‘activities’. Turns out these ‘activities’ were not only beating girls but _raping_ them as well and a smattering of drug dealing too. Anything hideous, immoral or despicable you can name was most likely happening with them behind closed doors.

Federal officers were involved and arrested them all-including me. Even though I’d broken contact with them for months.”

Ben’s story is suddenly interrupted when the woman returns with a bottle and basket, setting both down on to the table. He mumbles out a quick _thank you,_ the woman pouring them both glasses full of purple, saturated liquid.

He picks up the glass, swirling the liquid before taking a sip. Rey mimics his action, tasting the bitter and fruity drink.

They sit there so causally, sipping, like Ben’s not in the middle of a wildly intense, life-defining story.

“No matter how much I begged or swore, no one in the court believed me to be innocent.” He returns the glass to the table. “Too many students had seen me around them for too long.”

Ben gulps at nothing.

“And the worst part? My entire family didn’t believe me either. Including my mother.”

Rey’s eyes widen at _that_ detail. Leia appeared to love Ben _very_ much, even when she was cold toned when expressing it.

Rey can’t remember her mother at _all_. 

“They didn’t think I was actively _doing_ any of these acts, just that I was too complicit. My uncle who lived in Ithaca was _especially_ unsupportive, telling my parents he wasn’t surprised. That he had expected this. Even though I had reported them and was unaware of so much.

My boss, Snoke, was the once who paid my bail. Told me he was following the entire case and that _he_ believed me. He offered me a job I couldn’t refuse, told me I could rise to power and become so _powerful_ that everyone would _have_ to believe me.

I was weak. And frustrated. So, I took the job.

And me being the betrayed and hurt _brat_ I was, I flew to my parents West Coast home, here in Oregon and completely _trashed_ their house, the one I live in now.

They’d signed the property over to my name years prior but forgot to change it during the case. And I…kicked them out. Of their own home.”

Ben swirls the red-purple liquid, shame hunching his form. His voice is low.

“…I didn’t realize until years later that my mom was _minutes_ away from paying my bail before Snoke.

Turns out, she’d had a P.I confirm that everything I said was true. My uncle had fed her so much nonsense during my case, enough for her to completely doubt my character.

I only found out because the private investigator contacted me _himself,_ but it was already too late.”

This time he takes a long swig, throat bobbing as he empties the glass. Rey does not mimic this particular move.

“My family had believed me. I was too angry to notice. And now I carry that anger every day. So, sorry. Again. Sometimes is seeps through during the worst times.”

She wishes she had a voice to reassure him, to tell him she understands, but the next best thing is touch. Rey reaches for the fingers holding his glass, hesitant and brave, her nerves finally starting to soothe.

His story finally pieces together the confusing moments and whirlwind of emotions she’s experienced with him. From the concern about her well-being, to the sudden mood change within the confines of his office, Rey feels like she knows _Ben,_ not just the land dweller she’d observe astutely from the sea.

_He's just a mortal_ she reminds herself. _Even if you are in love with him. He is a soul, with feelings, desires and fears much like yourself._

Her inner pep-talk urges her even further, her hand now overturning his, as her fingers trace the soft skin of his palms. It’s the only way Rey can communicate, as if to say _I understand._

The pesky woman returns _again,_ interrupting yet another weighted moment between them. Ben’s breath picks up as he grabs for the menu, eyes quickly darting page to page as the woman impatiently taps a foot.

“I’ll take the black garlic glazed pork belly and roasted rib cap with bone marrow buttered toast.”

Rey hasn’t even opened _her_ menu. Not like it matters. She can't read anyways.

A small detail Ben apparently forgot, again.

The woman quirks a brow at Rey, expecting her to order something, but Ben scrambles, grabbing both menus and handing them to her in a hurry. “She’ll have the same. Thanks.”

It’s the same technique he did at the other restaurant, and like the paralleled women, she shoots Ben an irritated look, turning on her heel and marching way from them.

“Well, _someone’s_ got a stick up their ass.” Ben mock-whispers to Rey across the limited space. “And for once, it isn’t me.”

Rey silently giggles, rather surprised with his retort. He _is_ right though; the woman has an attitude.

Ben takes the bottle and re-fills his glass with liquid, then tops off hers even though she’s hardly taken two sips.

“I’ve got to be honest Rey; I’ve never been on a date where the other party couldn’t speak. I’m pretty used to two-way conversations.”

Rey screams internally. _If you would just kiss me already this wouldn’t be a problem!_

“So maybe…I can just ask you yes or no questions? Like I’ve been doing already?”

To agree with him, she nods enthusiastically, all former shyness and fear melting away.

Ben asks her all kinds of things. Did you go to school? _No_. Do you have family in America? _No._ Do you have any family _at all_? _No._ Do you know how to sail? _No._ Do you know how to swim? _Yes. Very much yes._

He picks up on her enthusiasm with the swimming question.

“You like to swim?”

Rey nods, her long hair bouncing from the movement.

“Oh yes, you _did_ tell me you’re from the ocean, how could I forget.” He smirks and Rey does not pick up on the sarcasm. “Do you swim casually? Or deep-dive?”

It’s not a yes or no question, so Rey raises her hand, imitating the movement of her tail as it swims through the water. Ben studies the motion, not quite picking up on her answer, but watching with intent anyways.

“That’s um, I don’t really know _what_ you’re showing me but it’s...is that the way you swim?”

She nods, continuing the hypnotizing movement.

“…you swim like a fish?”

Rey halts just as the woman comes back, now with multiple dishes of food and sets them down with a slight _thud._

For the first time this evening, Rey is thankful for the woman’s return.

Now with a distraction present, Rey picks up one of the utensils and looks down at the food served to her.

_This is food?_

It looks more like the scraps of trout you’ll find at seafloor.

Rey’s face scrunches in disgust, pushing the plate away. And when she looks up at Ben, his reaction is mirrored.

Ben gulps down the rest of his glass, reaches into his pocket and slaps some green paper down onto the table.

“How do cheeseburgers sound?”

○°°°○

Now _this_ is food.

Light, savory bread, warm meat, crunchy greens and tangy sauce fill Rey’s mouth with every bite. They’d practically _run_ out the restaurant, Ben cursing at the meal and the service, and walked down the street to a small stand wedged between two larger buildings.

Since there is no indoor seating area, or seating at _all,_ they just stand on the pavement, hungrily munching _cheeseburgers._

Maybe Rey is in love with food and not Ben.

This point is quickly corrected when Ben shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around her now shivering figure, without any prompt or hesitation, like he’d done yesterday.

Okay, _okay,_ so food is a _close second._

Her confidence is growing as the night resumes and Rey is becoming _excited_ for what’s to come after their meal. She mindlessly fiddles with the elastic straps underneath her skirt, fingernails running over the mysterious and unused clasps as the tail ends.

Rey finishes her cheeseburger seconds before Ben. His expression is more impressed than shocked, like he’s becoming used to her ravenous eating habits.

“Still hungry?”

She nods softly. Rey _is_ still hungry. But not for food.

“I’ll get us some fries then.” Ben begins to walk back to the stand before Rey grasps a hand around his upper arm, successfully stopping him mid-step.

At first, he’s confused. Rey shakes her head _no._

“O-oh okay, uh,” he squeaks out, “back to the apartment then?”

Rey grins and nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...is this what blue balling feels like?
> 
> yikes
> 
> sorry not sorry lol


	13. tanssi: the dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are becoming increasing difficult to write, holy guacamole. I'm trying to refine my writing skills for my next fic, so I'm taking a little bit longer during the editing process now. 
> 
> I just want to say thank you again to all my regular readers and commenters. It really means the world to me when people will comment. I love to hear it all! The good, the bad, and the ugly!
> 
> Also I made fanart of my own fic.[ Here's](https://dachenabritta.tumblr.com/post/620490315142512641/my-first-shot-at-digital-painting-definitely-not) mermaid Rey. 
> 
> Also please mind the rating for this chapter for both reasons: this fic is **mature** not explicit. This was intentional and alas, **CW: smut and violence.**
> 
> happy reading and buckle up  
> DCB

Over the past few years, dates were not Ben’s thing. Dating _in general_ was not Ben’s thing.

It was like a chore, something someone his age was expected to do, rather than the enjoyable, intentional activity it’s supposed to be.

Ben remembers his first date with Lacey. He was twenty-three. She worked alongside him in a different department at FOT, and they had a lot in common. They both liked Japanese food, she had family on the East Coast like him, and they agreed their boss was an _ultra-dick._

The dinner was fine. The small talk was okay. Ben dated Lacey for seven months.

Then there was Bazine. Bazine up-kept a façade of sweetness and compassion, which he stupidly believed and followed. When the road between them became bumpy, she would _explode;_ her true, manipulative nature clawing its way to the surface.

Dating Bazine was a job, not a relationship. His job was to keep her happy. To buy her expensive necklaces and shoes. To pay for her luxurious vacations. To receive her awful, berating criticism about him every day.

Ben stayed with Bazine for _three years._

He gave up on women’s company soon after, any date he brought home much more interested in the genuine Pollock on his wall rather than him. Which Ben understood. Why would anyone _purposefully_ want to be around him?

He has the emotional baggage equivalent to a luggage carousel. He’s awkward. He’s cold but his temper is hot. His nose and ears are much too big.

Which begs the question: _is Ben in a dream?_

Being with Rey is not boring or a job. Being with her is not some _task._ Although she hasn’t said one word to him, Rey is understanding and benevolent. Kind and sweet. Her smile warms even the coldest parts of his despairing soul, which he thought was impossible at this point.

Unlike Bazine, the only thing Rey asks for is _food._ Which he doesn’t mind, considering he becomes embarrassingly aroused every time she eats.

Rey is not perfect either. Which is also comforting.

She’s somewhat of a brat at times, and to her credit, is only troublesome when he’s upset. She has no concept of social clues or rules. Her behavior is odd and confusing most of the time. And she’s unlike any other person he’s ever known.

He must be in a dream, right? There’s no way this woman can be real.

Seeing Rey in that short, sweet dress is a dream. Confessing his wrong doings of the past with her full acceptance is a dream. Eating cheeseburgers at a crappy little stand with her is a dream.

It’s just the question of when Ben will wake.

He ignores the calls from Gwen and Hux during dinner. He doesn’t check his email. He forgets about London, and the scandal and work. Ben just soaks in the current euphoria he’s never granted. 

In the BMW the whole way back, Rey sits with unfazed discrepancy; she looks nervous, yet confident. Excited but dejected. Her fingers aimlessly twirl her new silver bracelet.

Since she said she was still hungry, Ben assumes Rey wants something else to eat besides burgers and fries, possibly something _less_ prone to severe heartburn.

Ben goes straight to the fridge when they enter the penthouse, his suit jacket still draped over her small shoulders. He hasn’t been in Portland for a couple of weeks now, since he’s only ever here for work, but there’s a couple Perfect Bars and a protein shake on the top shelf.

The items may not be up to Rey’s particular… _palette,_ but he now knows better to mess with her when she’s hungry.

He grabs the peanut butter bar, turning to her with an eyebrow raised in offering. “Would you like this? It’s not the _best_ tasting snack, but if you’re still hungry. “

Rey’s face scrunches and she shakes her head. Ben’s thrown by her response. Didn’t she _just_ tell him she wanted more to eat?

She approaches him slowly, and with an uneasy hand, Rey grabs the bar from his grip and…

…tosses it to the ground.

“Um, alright.”

Did he do something wrong again?

“I guess peanut butter isn’t really your thing?” Ben tries to joke.

No movement or emotion emits from Rey.

Instead, she grabs his forearm and starts to lead him back to the living room, analyzing the different pieces of furniture until her gaze settles to the umber Chesterfield sofa. With a tug on his forearm and a pointed finger, Ben gets the message.

At least he _thinks_ he gets the message.

Rey does not join him on the sofa. She stands in front of him with eager intensity, her hands toying with the lapels.

Without another question, Rey shrugs off his jacket and deposits it onto the coffee table behind her. It’s rather warm inside the apartment, so it makes sense that she wouldn’t need to wear it anymore.

What Ben _doesn’t_ understand is when she begins to reach backwards to the top of her dress and _pull,_ the tell-tale sound of a zipper quietly becoming undone.

_Holy shit. What the hell-_

All the lights are still on. There is no music playing. Ben is sitting painfully on his phone, thinking about the peanut butter bar that’s going to expire if he leaves in on the floor.

The last thing he predicted was a _fucking strip tease._

Ben should feel guilty. He doesn’t even know how old she is; for all he knows Rey could be _seventeen,_ but something deep within his soul know's that's not true.

“What are you- “

His question is quickly silenced when Rey lets the yellow dress drop from her shoulders onto the floor, revealing what _exactly_ she’s been hiding underneath the chiffon all night.

Turns out, Ben is not dreaming.

He’s actually dead.

Because how on earth does someone in the mortal world explain the _ensemble_ Rey is donning without it being his heavenly reward? What did he do in his short, miserable life to deserve such a gift?

Ben’s eyes trail from the sheer, red lace cups that fit _perfectly_ around her breasts, down to the expanse of her toned stomach and garter belt that melts into her goose bumped skin, then to the rouged panties, and the hanging elastic at her thighs.

He's not _particularly_ well-versed when it comes to women’s fashion, but aren’t the suspenders supposed to attach to something? Rey doesn’t wear garters or stockings; the elastic just bounces around as her movement begins to pick up, swaying to music he can’t hear.

If Ben wasn’t so turned on right now, he’d probably be questioning _that_ more.

Her hips now move in a rhythmic succession, fingers moving up from the creamy skin of her thighs, past the red panties with the little bow in the center and up to her swelling chest.

She catches him staring at her breasts. Okay, _staring_ may be the wrong word; it’s more like _gawking_. Then Rey smirks, understanding what he wants to see.

Her hands return to her back, elbows bending awkwardly, and she fumbles for the clasps. The erotic moment is _slightly_ interrupted when Rey begins to seriously struggle with undoing her bra, expression breaking into a frustrated one.

Ben can’t help but laugh, despite his attentive and hypnotized state.

“Come here,” he extends a helping hand, “I’ll undo the hooks for you.”

Rey isn’t sure to accept his assistance right away but soon succumbs after a solid minute of helplessly flailing, scooting to Ben with a slight pout. 

When she turns around, Ben is rewarded with her perfect, bare ass. His eyes are level with her satin thong.

Holy _fuck,_ Ben could practically _bite_ her at this range.

It takes every single cell of his body and willpower to keep his mouth closed and fingers busy, easily undoing the garment’s clasps. She yanks off the bra and _chucks_ it, a hint of hatred for the garment prevalent in her throw.

Whenever Rey exposed herself prior, accidental or not, Ben would quickly advert his eyes for the sake of modesty. But now, Rey has _invited_ him to watch.

A golden constellation of freckles scatters her heaving chest, akin to the ones that dust over her nose and cheeks. Her breasts not too large but not too small, the perfect size for his hands.

Ben would _very much_ like to test that theory, but the point of a strip tease is to _not_ touch unless allowed. And he thinks it may be working _because Ben has never been this hard ever in his life._

Rey takes in his slack-jawed, stupefied expression as a green light to continue. Her knees quietly sink into the leather of the sofa on either side of his thighs, effectively straddling and trapping Ben.

Their shared warmth is making Ben dizzy. The way her eyes shamelessly hold his like a vice, makes him dizzy. _Rey_ just makes him dizzy, and _holy shit-_

She kisses him gently, carefully, like a hesitant whisper. Ben pushes into her soft touch and tries to part his lips, to welcome the sensation, so grateful to _finally_ touch her.

This feels… _familiar._ From the timid way she presses down into him, to the way her tiny nose bumps against his cheek.

_Sunlight, sand and veiled words; a voice telling him to forget._

He hums incoherently and Rey _sighs,_ withdrawing slowly and hesitantly.

Ben is somewhat taken aback by the random memory but also the _relief_ on Rey’s face. She opens her mouth, locking eyes with Ben once again and-

Says nothing.

Like he expected to happen. Rey is mute.

Panic crosses her features as Rey frantically checks her wrist, eyes flitting in alarm.

_Is he_ that _bad of a kisser?_ Jesus.

“Uh, look, Rey…” Ben feels like he should apologize. “I honestly can’t remember the last time I kissed someone, let alone--“

Rey interrupts his apology, knotting her fists in his shirt, then crashing her mouth atop his, kissing him _deeper_ with a fervent determination.

The kiss is punishing but not unwanted. Ben groans at the way her teeth begin to graze against his bruising lips. He furthers their embrace, reaching up and palming her breasts gently at first but then, Rey breaks the kiss when he _squeezes._ His lips begin to move down: down her cheek, to her throat, to her collar, until his lips are hovering above her left breast.

Ben’s becoming achingly hard beneath her hovering touch.

His mouth descends without hesitation onto her rosy nipple and Ben sucks _hard,_ her hands releasing the crumpled cotton of shirt to instead grip onto his shoulders. He feels drunk, like he’s four cups of brandy into the night, his body becoming headier when he begins to lavish the neglected, right breast.

If Ben didn’t know better, he would expect Rey to be making all _sorts_ of noises, instead of the quick and choked breaths he hears above him.

Actually, the more attention he pays to her breathing pattern and the absurdly fast pace of her rising chest, the more he notices the feeling of pleasure morphing to pure _panic._

His assumption is confirmed when Ben releases her with a wet _pop,_ looking up to see her terrified expression. 

Rey pushes him away, hard enough that his back thuds solid against the sofa’s cushions. When Ben’s lidded eyes meet hers, there’s tears falling and dripping onto her shaking hands, which are hovering at her throat.

_Too far, Ben. You went way too far._

“R-Rey I’m sorry, I didn’t ask- “ he’s stutters out, watching Rey back away from him, completely topless, nearly bottomless and _vulnerable._

Her mouth opens again, like she’s trying to speak, and when nothing but silence follows again, Rey turns and _bolts_ down the entryway. The sound of the door opening and closing snaps Ben out of his drunken stupor.

Surging from the couch, Ben ignores the stiff ache beneath his trousers, and runs to the door, grabbing the keys from the entry way dish before leaving. The elevator doors do not open when he smashes the button, meaning Rey is headed to street level.

It’s smarter to wait for the elevator to descend and ascend the twenty-six stories once again instead of taking the emergency stairs down, but Ben is not smart.

Obviously.

"Shit, shit, shit _shit!"_ Ben screams at no one and nothing.

He takes the stairs, two, three, _four_ steps at a time, the horror of Rey running out into the streets practically naked and crying haunting his mind.

It always happens like this though, doesn’t it? Ben is given something good, something he wants and _relishes,_ only for him and his destructive self to come and destroy _everything._

By the time he reaches the last level, Ben is so shaken from the adrenaline and nerves, that he almost vomits his dinner onto the lobby’s white ceramic tile.

Rey couldn’t have gone far. Even with all the progress of her walking the past two days, her speed is nothing compared to Ben’s sprint. He runs out to the street, the cloak of night obscuring the light foot traffic by his building.

Looking both left and right down the street, he doesn’t spot her, but when he turns to look _across_ the road, Ben finally spots her bare skin and hunched figured dashing under the traffic light, her hands frantically ripping at the garter belt.

Further proving Ben’s stupidity, he jumps off the sidewalk, jaywalking through the road and a truck nearly hits him. The stopped truck blares his horn at Ben as he throws his hands up in an apology.

He’s losing sight on her fading figure. Ben runs even faster, this time, calling her name.

Rey doesn’t respond at first, blindly running over cracked pavement and through low hanging tree branches. When he calls her for the second time, Rey’s stepping on the grass of the public area dividing Park Avenue.

“Please!” Ben cries, “Rey, _for the love of God,_ please stop!”

She stills, sobbing and almost completely naked in the middle of a Portland City park.

Ben finally catches up to her, rounding around her small, shaking figure as he begins to unbutton his dress shirt to cover her.

“Rey, I am so, _so_ sorry, I-I didn’t _mean_ to go that far, it’s just that-I thought _you_ wanted-”

He cuts himself off, afraid of what to say next, wrapping the black shirt around her trembling body.

“I _really_ like you Rey. I know I’ve only known you for a couple of days, but it's just, you and- ”

The words are in his throat, choking him.

“An-and I thought, _maybe_ , just maybe…you did too.”

Her neck snaps upward, soulful eyes finally meeting his. They resemble the warmth of the sun; her tears like the coast’s overcast skies. Rey just stands there, blinking up at Ben with profound sadness and confusion engraved on her face.

It’s like she’s trying to tell him something, something _extremely_ important through her dimmed eyes, as they desperately search Ben’s.

Her trembling hands reach up to Ben’s face, palms grazing his cheeks.

_Please_ Rey mouths.

_Remember me._

The unspoken words trigger something deep within his mind, the world becoming a blur of lamp light and darkness, hazy and throbbing memories tearing their way through Ben’s head. Flashes of sunlight, misty waves, of hazel eyes, _so much_ like hers pulse in and out.

Her touch is familiar.

Ben knows her eyes. He’s seen them before, before he ever found her at the beach.

And when Rey rises up to kiss him again, he _knows_ these lips.

These are the lips that kissed him below the storms’ fierce waves, the same ones that met his at Crescent beach.

Ben breaks away from the kiss, the dam of memories releasing like a floodgate.

Memories of the shipwreck, of being saved, and memories even _further_ back, come crashing though Ben like waves; similar to the cerulean waves she swam in when he first saw her.

When he first saw the-

“… _mermaid_?”

Her entire face lights up.

And Rey _laughs._

Like, _actually_ laughs, voice and all.

It’s more of a sob than a laugh really, but it’s clear and resonating.

“ _Kultaseni_ …” Rey cries out, “you _remembered._ How- “

Her body seizes out of nowhere. Ben quickly grabs her by the elbows, shocked and confused _,_ as Rey’s face contorts in sudden and sharp pain, her weight growing within his arms.

The sound of ripping fabric and crying come from Rey as she sinks lower to the ground, eyes pinched in agony. He doesn’t understand _what_ is going on, or _how any of this is possible,_ but his world is shaken even more when he looks down to her lower half.

There’s a long, golden tail in place of legs.

“What’s going on- I don’t understand _how_ , Rey- “

She looks just as perplexed as he is, first looking down at her tail, then to her wrist, where the silver bracelet sits below the tattooed marks.

Rey grabs his dumbfounded face and it turns it to hers. “Ben, you need to listen to me _very_ carefully.”

He never expected her voice to be so _stern._

“There’s a confession, one that I only have two sunsets left to receive, or the spell will…I don’t know _what_ will happen.”

They don’t hear the men walk up from behind.

“ _Please,_ Ben.” Her voice is a woeful plea.

They don’t hear the boots crunching over the late spring leaves.

Rey continues to feverishly speak to the silent and stilled Ben, her misty eyes meeting the entire time. “The magic is tricky and you’re the only one who can- “

And they _certainly_ don’t hear the first tell-tale sounds of the taser.

When the probs stab into Ben’s backside, he feels nothing but a slight pinch, until the electric shocks are emitted like pure _lighting._

His muscles convulse uncontrollably, his movements ceasing as he drops to the ground in shock. Rey is screaming his name, but it’s a far way voice at the end of a tunnel.

Through blurry vision, Ben watches two men shove Rey to the ground, bind her wrists and yank at her hair.

Tasers only keep a man down for four or five seconds. And Ben is bigger than most men already.

He heaves up from the ground, electrical spasms still coursing through his back, and uppercuts the man closest to his reach. A small victory is won when the stocky man lets go of Rey’s roped wrists until the other, taller man pulls a police-grade baton from his pocket and reciprocates the blow with an even _harder_ one. Ben’s head spins violently as he falls back to the grass.

Rey’s screaming becomes a muffle, no doubt from some kind of gag, and the men’s voices wave in and out, Ben catching small words and sentences.

“…told ya she was with him…”

His head strains, attempting to hear the men better.

“…that red-headed slime ball better got the cash…”

_Red-head…?_

Ben lays paralyzed on the park’s grass, useless, and concussion further strained from the blow to his head.

The last thing he sees through clouded eyes are the two men loading Rey, tail and all, into the back seat of the same beat-up red pickup that almost hit him minutes earlier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sobs when posting this chapter* I am so so sorry y'all.


	14. rekka: a truck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to last updates comments, the most agreed on feeling was...torture? anxiety?  
> ...excitement, perhaps? 
> 
> enjoy xox  
> DCB

Strained sunlight hits Rey’s face, her eyes groggily opening to the warmth.

At first, she thinks she’s waking up in the cliff house. But something is wrong.

Actually, _everything_ is wrong.

Rey is underwater, her body is cramped. When she tries to rub at her crusted, bleary eyes, her limbs flex in shock. Her hands are tied to her bare waist.

The night before slowly starts to come back to her.

She remembers Ben’s jaw dropping when she removed her clothes, just like she hoped would happen.

She remembers kissing him and the spell _not_ breaking - at first.

She remembers running out into the cold night, Ben calling for her as the ground beneath her new feet became soft and dewy.

Rey remembers kissing him again, sparks of light blossoming from behind closed eyes and her voice freed to the mortal world, _finally._

  
She _still_ doesn’t understand how Ben was able to remember her, successfully breaking the spell, but she’s grateful for it, nevertheless. The look of recognition was enough for Rey to forget about everything, just for that minute, when he held her within his warm grasp, the memories they held together returning.

_Ben._

The painful heart palpitations return when she thinks of him. The otherwise innocent and rather pleasant fluttering are gone, now replaced with the ache she knows well.

A small sob escapes her, something she’s learned since becoming a human, and is muffled by something wrapped around her head and covering her mouth.

You’ve got to be kidding.

_I get my voice back for the first time in days…just to be silenced. Again._

Rey looks past her roped hands, waist and torso.

_Voi paska._

_Ved-ava_ failed to mention that along with her powers coming back, so would her _tail._

A true siren does not have legs. It’s merely the law of her nature.

More memories, one she tries _not_ to recall, return as well. How in the seven seas did the _same_ disgusting, cruel men find her again? Maybe _Mielikki_ is not as merciful as she previously thought.

And they were better prepared this time, too. The men bound her quicker than she had time to react. They must have either hit her head or placed something into her blood, because Rey remembers nothing after that.

Now, she’s here, in some unknown place, a metal grate above her head, and her body submerged within a cramped container. Her fins are painfully crushed against the end of the dark basin, the rising sun peeking through the grid-like device above her, creating an intricate shadow.

_It’s sunrise._

Frantically, Rey twists her right wrist towards the limited daylight.

She sighs when she sees the one, remaining black mark still present. Rey still has the rest of today and tonight, until tomorrow’s sunrise.

The bracelet Ben bought her is thankfully tangled in the rope, right below the mark.

How is she going to find Ben again? Or rather, Ben find her. In Rey’s current state she’s rather immobile on dry land.

The last glimpse she caught of him was gut-wrenching; beaten down and still spasming from whatever device caused such sudden shock.

What do these men have in store for her? Revenge? Exposure? She prefers death rather than becoming some sort of exhibition…or worse.

From behind her, Rey hears a door open and then heavy footsteps enter. It’s hard to hear them when her head is still submerged, so she rises as much as she can to try and listen.

It’s the sailors, of course, but they are speaking to someone rather than themselves. They’re still too far away to understand, but Rey can make out short bits.

“…could’ve told us the bastard was the size of a refrigerator…”

More shuffling and doors closing stifle what they’re saying.

“…hope you’re happy with our _work_ , sir…”

A voice she doesn’t recognize quips back, sharp and quiet, the men shutting up the second he speaks. The footsteps grow closer and closer, fear building within Rey and her head sinks back to the safety of the stale water.

A large hand bangs a top the metal grate directly above Rey’s head, causing her to startle in the limited space. The light is blocked when a blurry face through the water comes into view.

Why has Rey seen this face before? When did she…?

The office. _Ben’s_ office, at the fish tank.

The man towering above her is the same man who stood next to the taller, blonde woman. Rey hardly recalls him, but the red hair, statuesque form and sleazy visage are all too recognizable.

Something off the side begins to click and clatter then the grate is lifted off to reveal Rey, just like a predator would with prey.

His hand reaches into the water to pull her up by the neck, Rey gasping painfully as she’s forced to breach the surface. His eyes roam over her bound wrists and then gradually widen when his sight reaches her golden scales.

“My god, she really _is_ a fish. You weren’t lying.”

One of the men scoffs behind her. “Of course, we weren’t lyin’. And everybody on that internet site said we were crazy.”

The red-headed man is still gripping her neck painfully, and Rey begins to wince in his grasp, eyes snapping back to her face.

“Ben loves to think himself clever, doesn’t he? What did he say, Ukraine? Any idiot with half a brain could see right through that pitiful story.”

Rey starts thrashing at the mention of Ben, the other two men now around the container reaching below the water to hold her down.

“Now, _now_ , if you don’t behave, we are going to give you some more _medication,”_ the man seethes. _“_ My friends here warned me about your strength and powers. What do they call it? _The siren’s cast?_ ”

“The siren’s _call_.” The fat man corrects him.

Her flaying becomes even more frenzied, water splashing past the brim of the tank and beginning to drench the three men, who all curse at her.

“Get the stuff, Saul!” the thinner man yells, “She can tip this thing over!”

While the chaos around her ensues, Rey begins to feel the knots in both her wrist and mouth loosen slightly, her focus switching to wiggling her arms between the scratchy rope. The three men are too occupied with maiming down her powerful tail than they are watching her restraints.

A sudden sensation pinches her arm, molten stinging its way down her limb and then into the rest of her struggling body. The red-head man releases her throat _finally,_ the water a veil of artificial security.

The world is becoming dark and quiet once again, the grate replaced and locked as the man hovers over her view, a disgusting grin adorning his pale face.

“Sleep tight, little mermaid.”

Her eyes droop and shut on their own, beyond Rey’s control. His grimy voice is the last thing she hears echoing within the water.

“We’ll see if our dear _Mr. Solo_ will bite at the bait.”

○°°°○

Slowly and reluctantly, Ben’s eyes crack open to the tree-filtered morning light.

There’s a loud ringing in his left ear and the ground below him is soft and mossy. The sensation reminds him of the mornings when he’d wake up on the Phi Kappa Psi lawn, hungover and brain raked through the coals.

Ben’s vision is so obscenely blurry that he can’t quite make out _where_ he is. There are a few blobs of colors moving around which he quickly identifies as people, but otherwise the location and surroundings are unfamiliar.

His elbows bend under him reluctantly, shaking arms pushing off the ground and back into a sitting position. Ben blinks a few more groggy times, the reality of his situation finally hitting.

His chest is bare. There’s a small pile of ripped, red lace in front of his suited legs.

A scream sounds through his mind.

_Ben!_

The night comes crashing back to him along with the long-forgotten ones that have risen back to the surface of knowing.

Rey was the mermaid he’d seen below the glass deck at the cliff house. The mermaid he’d thought constantly about for weeks on end. She was also his mysterious savoir the day of _the Millennium’s_ shipwreck.

How… _how_ did he forget her?

And the minute Ben had found her, he lost her. Again.

He tries to stand up, but the rush of panic and pain force him back down to the ground, knees sinking into the grassy earth.

Thankfully, his phone is still situated in his suit pants pockets and not dead. His eyes keep trying to blink away the fuzzy vision and Ben ends up bringing the screen practically to his nose to read the contents on the screen.

_(13) unread messages from_ Gwendoline

_(6) missed calls from_ Gwendoline

_(2) unread messages from_ Mom

_(2) missed calls from_ Armitage Hux

Ben doesn’t even know where to begin, but his first instinct is to check his mother’s message, since that should be any normal child’s priority.

_Made it to Ashland._

_If you can’t reach my cell, call Poe. I’m at his house._

Not the most exciting messages he expected, if Ben’s being honest. He’d completely forgotten about his mother leaving Arch Cape today to see Poe, a mechanic who worked alongside Han for years. Which means he can’t depend on Leia right now. She’s over four hours away by car.

He scrolls to the next notification. In the back of his mind, Ben suspects the two men who took Rey were the ones who caused the marks on her arms, leg and cheek. They also mentioned something about a red-head, and if _that_ suspicion is correct…

Quickly, he presses the screen for Hux’s contact, the phone ringing before he can muster the energy to bring it to his bruising ear.

The ringing continues, and continues and continues…

Ben gets the feeling Hux will not be answering, no matter how many times he’ll attempt to call him, further adding to the suspicion.

His next best bet is Gwen, and the premise seems somewhat hopeful.

Ben sits back down onto his ankles, exhaustion wracking through his body. He’s pretty sure joggers and nearby park goers are staring at his… _peculiar_ state of dress, but he’s not in the mindset to care. 

When he opens the fourteen unread messages, his eyes can’t skim through the blue boxes fast enough.

**(1) Missed call from Gwendoline**

_This is kind of weird, but Armitage thinks your…friend is like_

_some wanted criminal or something_

_You know, the one that you bribed me to babysit and bit me_

Wanted criminal…?

_He wouldn’t shut up about her when we went to lunch after_

_Then he disappeared and I haven’t been able to reach him. Have you?_

**(1) Missed call from Gwendoline**

_I know this is kind of illegal but_

_I tracked his location_

_He’s on the coast_

_No fucking clue why, he hates the water_

_I didn’t tell Snoke but thought you should know,_

_he’s gonna start questioning you 2_

**(4) Missed calls from Gwendoline**

Maybe Ben shouldn’t have ignored the onslaught of calls last night.

_Also my new bag is a-mazing, ty_

_but I’ll never forgive that weird girl of yours for biting me_

_No matter how cute she may be_

He calls her out of pure panic after Ben has read over every message, once, then twice over.

Why the hell would Hux be on the coast? Today is technically a workday. It’s Monday, eleven AM. They should _both_ be in the office.

The phone only rings three times until Gwen’s low voice answers in her typical, muted chipper.

“You _finally_ decide to call back, Mr. Solo. And here I was, thinking you were dead last night. Too preoccupied with your lady friend?”

Ben does not have the time or patience for Gwen’s usual harmless joking.

“This is an emergency, _where_ is Hux exactly?”

“Hphm. Well, _good morning_ to you as well, sunshine. Your date run out on you or something?”

If only his assistant knew how close that jab hit to home.

“ _Gwendoline._ Seriously. I think Hux has done something terrible. I need to know where he is. _Now.”_

Her tone immediately straightens. Ben _is_ her boss, after all. “Um, I’m not sure. He shut off his location services this morning. Haven’t been able to reach him since, must have realized I was snooping; he has that weird sixth sense about him.”

Shit, if Hux is connected in any way to Rey or the two men, then Ben needs to know _exactly_ where he is. If Ben can pinpoint where on the coast he’s hiding, it may lead him to Rey.

The thought of Hux even _breathing_ around Rey is enough for his blood to boil.

“…is there something wrong, Ben? I know it’s not in my place- “

“Yes.” Ben needs to share the concern with at least _one_ other human. “I think Hux has…taken Rey. Or at least helped.”

“Like, kidnapped?”

A shuddering sigh leaves him, “ _Yes,_ I think Hux has hired men to kidnap Rey and I have no idea why. I think they used a taser on me or something last night, so they knew I would’ve put up a fight or that I was with her.”

There’s an interminable silence over the phone.

“…. that goddamn bastard,” Gwen finally manages out, “I _told_ him not to contact those shady idiots.”

How in God's name does _Gwen,_ out of all people have all the answers? Ben’s _assistant_ appears to know more about what’s going on than him; a sick joke played by the universe.

“Jesus, Ben, are you all right? I know you can usually handle a beating, but you sound a little…defeated.”

“I just need the last place you pinpointed Hux. I can’t call authorities for certain, um, _reasons_.”

_The main reason being you cannot file a legal report for a missing mermaid and_ not _be shipped to the looney bin_ , he idly thinks.

“Just send me whatever info you have, and I’ll, I don’t know…buy you a new laptop or something.”

Gwen clears her throat across the line.

“Benjamin, the bag is wonderful, and I am your _eternally_ grateful assistant…but you do _not_ need to buy me anything for this. I actually feel quite guilty. I was the one who showed Hux the post originally.”

“What post?”

“The- um,” another beat of silence, “the post where…I’ll just send it to you. I told him not to do anything stupid, but Armitage is not a typical one to listen to those below him."

"I’m sorry Ben.”

And with that, his assistant ends the call abruptly.

Ben just sits in the middle of the public park area, head beaten and bruised, taser marks buried in his bare back and phone slack in his weakening hand.

The puzzle pieces are slowly coming together but…

Dual _dings_ sound from his phone. Two new messages from Gwen. They are photos, screenshots, to be precise.

The first image is Hux’s pinpoint on a map, showing his location thirty miles or so south of Cannon Beach. It appears he was on his way to Bay city from the looks of it.

The second image freezes Ben’s blood.

It’s a photo of Rey, albeit _extremely_ blurry, but it’s definitely her. She’s soaking wet judging by her hair clinging to her face, her expression frightened and wide-eyed. Above the photo reads the caption: REAL MERMAID FOUND!!! CURRENTLY ON LOSE, CONTACT SAUL PRESBIRGER WITH ANY INFO.!!

He scrolls back up to the first screenshot.

Bay City is just over an hour’s drive.

Ben already has the location in his GPS before he returns to his apartment building to grab car keys and a shirt, only one thing, one _person,_ on his mind.

**□■■■□**

On most days, Ben savors the drive from the city to the ocean.

The transition from concrete and traffic lights, to fir tree and mountains never grows old, no matter how bothersome the long drive may be.

Today is not like most days.

Ben is driving his BMW at such an alarming speed he’s surprised that no one has pulled him over. The engine revs at every long expanse of road and hums only when he needs to turn or blare through a stop sign.

The panicked drive is reminiscent of another time, only three weeks ago, when Ben raced home after learning about his father’s death.

The feeling of dread weighs on his heart, like it did with Han.

Now that Ben thinks about it, Rey’s rather odd behavior would be considered normal for a mermaid who was walking on land for the first time. Washing up naked, not understanding basic things like shoes or showers and her insistent convincing that she was from the _ocean,_ all make sense now. 

Ben’s not sure _what_ he’ll do if he finds Rey, much less if he finds that bastard _Hux_ with her. Rescue mission 101 was not an elective at Cornell.

He regrets not bringing his Smith and Wesson, which currently sits locked up in a secured desk drawer.

With a quick look at the dash, Ben realizes he’s disgustingly over the speed limit and attempts to slow down.

He needs to stay distracted, eyes instead following the unending highway. One of his therapist’s recommended sounding out objects that you encounter as a diversion method, so Ben studies each car that passes him on the one-o-one.

_Blue Ford Mustang._

He takes a deep, calming breath.

_Silver Nissan._

Ben’s actually a fan of that particular model.

_Red GMC truck._

Wait.

_Red truck. Very beat up, **red** GMC truck. _

The vehicle passes slow enough for Ben to catch the passengers on the truck’s bench.

Two men. One fat and short. The other, ugly and thin.

Swerving into the opposing lane and rear-ending the men’s truck, thus forcing them to pull over and stop, would be incredibly and undoubtedly stupid.

And Ben is stupid.

The force of purposely crashing one’s fifty-thousand-dollar car into another moving vehicle is infinitesimal compared to the pain of losing Rey again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voi paska  
> Shit (or crap)
> 
> Going to be honest, I did NOT intend on Phasma being such a good guy in this fic. I think I personally just really like the actress herself, Gwendoline Christie. 
> 
> Also if any of you have car related questions lmk on my tumblr or twitter lol (both @dachenabritta). I actually work in the automotive industry so yea...not really mermaid related, but whatever.


	15. sydän: the heart, part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay! You're about to see why this chapter (or two) took longer than usual. 
> 
> This is part one of the 15th chapter. It was better divided into this format. 17 will be epilogue. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience! 
> 
> **CW: blood and overall violence**
> 
> Enjoy  
> DCB

Ben enters the run-down building with a frantic and determined pace, ignoring the throbbing in his head and ache in his neck. No matter how lightly you hit someone with your car, whiplash is bound to happen.

The two men were quick to answer all of Ben’s questions, but it was not out of politeness. It was most likely due to the fact the action of grabbing them both around their throats and holding them against the truck’s hood until one of them spit out Rey’s location.

Oh, and they’re not getting off easy. Ben has their license plate photographed and he's already sent a few messages to Gwen. Hopefully the authorities will bring justice after this whole ordeal is over.

Garibaldi marina is well-known on the Oregon coast, but the facility slightly beyond its perimeters is not. It’s a fishery that’s practically abandoned.

He pushes past the clear curtains, heavy door and opened gates, all conspicuously unlocked. It appears that Ben was meant to come here; like the entire situation was oddly set up for his arrival...

He bursts through the final metal door to enter the main room. Heated, musty air hits his face and Ben realize it’s a heavily insulated, broken-down freezer, soaking up the warm spring day.

The room is rather scarce; some crates and a spattering of rolling racks. Ben’s checked every single crook and corner of the main facility, but the freezer is the only isolated area.

In the center sits a large, aluminum tub with a locked lid on top.

With slow, deliberate steps, Ben inches closer to it.

There’s no movement, not even a sound within the entire facility. The silence is eerie, the taste of uncertainty thick in the air.

Ben’s eyes finally crawl over the containers lid, past the wide metal grate to find dark stilled water, a slight glimmer of gold, then-

His fingers grasp roughly to the rusted metal and he starts to shake the entire tub. Rey’s eyes are closed, her head below the water’s surface, unmoving.

Just like the first time he saw Rey with eyes closed and body stilled, the first fear is that she is not, in fact, asleep.

The joy of finding her nearly outweighs the panic that shakes him to the very core.

“Rey!”

Her eyes gently twitch when he shakes _especially_ hard.

He can’t help the sense of relief that floods through him.

“Rey! Wake up!”

Ben continues his efforts until the water is rising and splashing against his bare forearms.

Her eyelids begin to flutter, softly at first which motivates Ben to lay rest to the shaking and instead focus on the lock that connects the grate to the container. It’s enforced with a number combination and Ben pulls at the contraption as hard as possible.

Unfortunately, daily trips to the gym don’t grant a normal man the ability to tear apart a brass padlock.

“Bmhn...” a small muffled, attempt at his name calls from below.

Hearing her voice is like a shot of adrenaline to the heart, Ben forgetting the lock and reaching a hand through one of the wide openings. Her fingers rise from the water to meet his and for one, graceful and _rapturous_ moment, their fingers intertwine.

“Rey, I’m so sorry, I’ll get you out of here, I promise I’ll never let them- “

The moment is interrupted by the metal door suddenly opening and shutting.

“It appears that you _can_ connect the dots, Mr. Solo.”

_Hux._ Of course the vile bastard set the whole thing up. Ben’s not sure what or _who_ else he expected.

The red-head circles around the room, taking in the reunion. “How touching...”

He reaches from behind his waist to then point a pistol towards Ben.

“It’s too bad I’ll have to cut it short.”

Ben throws his arms in surrender, eyeing the gun dangerously. He always assumed Hux was mad; he just never pegged him f _or absolutely insane_.

“Armitage,” Ben’s voice is soft and reasonable, “I understand if you’re angry, but I don’t understand...why. _Why_ are you doing this?”

Hux huffs at his imploring question. “Snoke obviously hasn’t informed you yet.”

He heads towards the tank as Ben backs away, confusion melting into anger the closer Hux grows to Rey. “There’s been a dip in his health as of late. Unfortunately, our dear chief executive is not expected to live much longer, possibly not even to see the changing colors of autumn. Cancer can be a tricky thing, so unpredictable and deadly.”

_Has Ben been gone that long from work? To not even notice Snoke becoming sick?_

Hux now hovers over the cage, free hand fiddling the number combination on the lock.

“Back up a little farther, won’t you, Benjamin?” Hux waves the pistol with a flick of his wrist, Ben taking three or four cautious steps towards the door.

“I don’t understand what any of this has to do with me. Or Rey.” Ben grits out.

“I had a feeling you'd be curious." The final number clicks, and he yanks the brass bars loose. "You see, Snoke needs a legacy. Someone from the company needs to step up and take his place.”

The padlock opens and clatters to the ground, metal hitting concrete.

“At first, he had complete faith in you taking up the position of CEO. You were his proud, heartless right-hand man. The President who did everything he was asked of with no question or remorse.”

He flips the grate open over its hinges and peers into the water. Rey has hidden herself below the surface. Only a peek of her fin is visible at the farthest end.

“Then, your putrid _father_ had to go and have a heart attack," he nearly spits out. "Rather unfortunate, if you ask me, but it seems like it the ending the geezer deserved.”

If Hux wasn’t a dead man already, he’s just sent the final nail to the proverbial coffin.

He sighs, the entire situation seemingly _casual_ to him. “You went soft, Solo. Soft can’t run a fortune five hundred company, especially since our assets have extended overseas. First Order needs someone ruthless and rigid. We need a worthy replacement of Snoke.”

Eyes still locked to the tub and gun aimed at Ben, he reaches below the water Rey hides below and grips onto her tangled hair, exposing her head and naked torso to the air.

Rey groans within the confines of the gag and her eyes desperately search Ben’s in mutual terror.

“I’m asking again... _what_ does this have to do with Rey?”

“Besides the fact that she’s a freak of nature? A grotesque image of the devil’s creation?” Hux rattles her struggling figure, Rey wincing in pain as he does so. “She’s leverage. _Against you._ ”

Armitage Hux is naturally competitive. This has been obvious and present for the years Ben has worked with him. According to Gwen, and multiple other staffers at First Order, Hux isn’t silent when exuding his distaste for the company’s new president.

“You’re telling me... you hired people to _kidnap_ someone because of a personal vendetta? Are you crazy?”

“Maybe I am. But a madman gets want he wants. And the only thing I want is for you to lose. “

Ben is baffled. “Hux, you need to calm down. This is- “

“Do NOT tell me what to do!” Hux shrieks.

To Ben’s utter horror, he turns the gun away from him and instead buries the barrel into Rey’s temple, adopting a cooler tone when he turns his focus back to Ben.

“Let’s come to an agreement, Benjamin.”

Beneath Hux’s hold, Ben can see Rey wriggling her wrists out of their restraints. With all the effort he can muster, Ben prays his eyes away from her slowly losing grasp. Hux _cannot_ notice what she's doing.

_A distraction_ , Rey pleads with her eyes, _keep him distracted_.

“What do you want, Hux?” he mockingly sighs.

“Good to see you finally coming around.”

Hux smiles at Ben’s apparent defeat. “I’m willing to make you a simple deal. You give up you your position at First Order.”

This entire situation is because of a fucking _job_? Hux had two men stalk him and Rey, kidnap her and send him on a dangerous scavenger hunt halfway across the state _f_ _or the presidential position at an insurance company?_

You have got to be _fucking_ kidding. 

In all honesty, Ben doesn't give a shit about his job right now. But he needs to buy more time for Rey.

“That job is my livelihood. I can’t just leave it, there’s people who depend- “

“I don’t give a shit. You never deserved that role. _I_ should’ve been selected. Snoke was half out of his mind when he decided to promote you. _I_ was the one who worked up from nothing. _I_ was the deserving one. You were just the mercy case that Snoke decided to pity upon. “

Ben plays into his weird, power hungry monologue.“If that’s what you want, then take it. I don’t care. Just point the gun away fro-”

“That’s not _all_ I want,” he interrupts, jabbing the metal further into Rey’s skin. “Not even _close_ to what I _truly_ want.”

The ropes are slowly but surely loosening. Ben just needs to keep him talking for a little bit longer. He has no idea what Rey’s plan is, but he trusts her.

“Let’s just be adults about this, Hux. I’m willing to listen.”

“Well that’s _fantastic_ to hear!” he laughs and sarcastically says. “And for the first time, might I add?”

“At first, I thought sending you to London was winning. Then, I thought you leaving the corporation _entirely_ was winning. But when I learned about your little _asset,”_ Hux emphasizes the remark by yanking Rey up higher, _“_ I figured that I could rid my life of you. Hell, I could rid the _world_ of you. No one would never have to see your face or hear your name ever again.”

He points the barrel towards Ben once again.

“Your life for hers. And believe me, the rest of her life will _not_ be a pleasant one. Imagine how much she’ll sell for alive. Poked and prodded by scientists, enamored by the media, my god, there’s probably _thousands_ of them around the world hiding away, fearful of us.” Hux yanks again, painfully. “And for obvious reason.”

Out of all the suggestions, _murder_ was not necessarily on Ben’s radar. The anxiety continues to rise, bile in his throat as he forces his eyes to remain on Hux.

“I’ll be a rich man and you’ll be a dead one. It’s just… _perfect._ ”

Her ropes loosen and fall gently into the water. Hux doesn’t notice. His eyes are still too focused into Ben, angry and heated.

“This is _insane_. You’re going to _kill_ me? How do even plan on covering that up? Gwen knows I’m here, as well as every person at FO who can track my location.”

Hux had apparently planned ahead. He snickers at Ben.

“Scapegoats can be a truly powerful thing. It’s too bad those buffoons decided to leave their fingerprints all over this facility, including this pistol, might I add. Give a man a gun and suddenly he’s a god. Dimwits thought I was doing them a service by letting them hold it.”

Ben looks down at Hux’s hands. The black gloves make sense now.

“And how do you intend to explain why _you’re_ here?”

“Easy," he shrugs. "I imagine the police will have a much easier time arresting two gangly, poor men whose fingerprints are littered amongst the crime scene rather than the helpless witness who stumbled upon such a _horrible_ and unfortunate tragedy.”

Hux’s eyebrows raise in mocking sympathy, acting out his plan before Ben. “I was just so _worried_ about my friend and colleague, that I followed him all the way out here to god knows where. When I arrived, I found a lone mermaid with her tongue cut out and her dead prince, shot by rabid fisherman. I can see the headlines now, oh, the media will _eat_ it up.”

"Gwen knows- “

“I don’t give a damn what Gwen knows!” He bangs the gun angrily against the tub. “That bitch _will_ keep her mouth shut. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do with a little bribery.”

“Even hiding the homicide of one of her friends? Of her boss?”

Hux cocks the gun, eyes narrowed at him.

“I’m growing impatient. Make your decision. If you choose to put down the creature, know that her death will be on _your_ hands. Literally.”

The red-head loosens his grip on Rey’s hair to reach behind again and this time produce a different type of arm; one that Ben identifies as a tranquilizer.

“Like I said…scapegoats and fingerprints are _quite_ powerful things.”

Ben looks down to Rey, who’s finally loosening the fabric around her mouth since being let go. Seconds. She only needs _mere seconds…_

“Don’t kill her. Please. I’ll- “

The gunshot is so sudden that Ben registers the sound before realizing he's been hit. 

○°°°○

“No!”

Using all the strength she can muster, Rey launches up from the container, knocking it sideways as she does so.

She tackles Hux to the ground like she did with the sailors on their boat and she manages to wrestle the objects from his hands while he struggles below her weight. They splash onto the pooling concrete floor and Hux is now the one struggling below _her_ hold.

There’s only one way Rey can defeat this man.

“ _Kuuntele minua_ ,” she finally says through gritted teeth, voice harsh and demanding.

_You will listen to me._

Hux stops wiggling. His body become still and silent, awaiting the siren’s next call.

“ _Unohdat kaiken: merenneidon, Benin, työsi, elämäsi.”_

_You will forget everything: the mermaid, Ben, your job, your life._

Unlike this poor excuse of a human, Rey does not wish death upon him. She will not swoop down to his level, no matter the harm he’s inflicted on Ben. No matter how much misery he’s dragged her through.

“ _Nuku ja kun nouset, olet uusi mies.”_

_You will sleep and when you rise, you will be a new man._

Hux’s face fights in resistance at first, but no mortal can betray the siren’s call. His eyes droop closed in defeat, head landing with a solid thud against the hard ground.

She's destroyed the man that is Armitage Hux but survived the vessel of his body. It's death, but not quite. And although it’s a small victory, there’s still the manner of _Ben_.

Ben, who’s currently bleeding out across the room from her.

Ben, who traded his life for hers.

Rey drags herself slowly atop the now slick floor to Ben’s collapsed form. There’s a small pool of blood surrounding his left shoulder that’s trickling and mixing with the spilt water.

_This was not supposed to happen._

“B-Ben!” she cries out. He can only reply with labored breaths, eyes fixed to the swinging lights above.

_This is not how any of this was supposed to happen._

“How did you- _why_ did you—"

“I came here to help you,” he wheezes, “you told me there w-was a spell only I could break. I came-“ _cough_ “I came here to help you.”

“I don’t _care_ about the spell!" Rey is screaming. "I don’t want to walk a mortal world where you’re _dead_!”

Her hands grasp at his chest, then rise farther to the blossoming, red wound that is now soaking his grey shirt. She tries to compress it as much as possible, but Ben’s eyes are closing.

“Please! No! This wasn’t-I can’t lose you like this, please!”

Ben’s eyes crack open to her strained, pleading voice. A large hand rises and gently palms her cheek, Rey leaning into his touch.

“A life for a life, Rey.”

No, no, _no_.

That is _not_ how that works!

Ben’s head thumps back down and the touch against her skin surrenders to gravity.

“Ben! Wake up! _Please!_ ”

Rey is begging at this point. She begs to Ben, to _Ved-ava_ , to _any_ merciful deity that may look upon such a wretched situation and provide some kind of miracle.

Her hands are bathed completely in red when she lifts them off his stilled chest.

The world becomes blurry and dizzy. Rey can hardly see anything through her wet lashes. It’s a sensation she still doesn’t understand; water leaking from one’s eyes.

With a careful pull, Rey lifts herself closer to Ben’s face.

If anything, she wants to have her lips touching his in their final moments together.

The throbbing within her heart is so painful, Rey whimpers when their lips finally, and desperately meet. The sobs wrack even harder when Rey feels no breath coming from Ben.

Her tears stream down her shaking face. They descend past her freckled cheeks, past her quivering chin until they fall directly to Ben’s parted lips and over his slacked tongue.

She rises, letting even more salty tears drip down, touching Ben’s eyelashes, nose and curve of his throat.

Rey rests her head against the saturated cloth, too far past to be bothered about the red staining her face.

_It feels as if my heart is being torn out through my throat._

Her skin is beginning to dry out and crack. She’s been exposed on land for too long. 

_A mermaid has not an immortal soul._

Rey is weeping, her entire body convulsing atop Ben’s.

_If the gods command me to die here and now, then I shall._

She buries her nose and vision away from the dreaded view of his wound, her tears and his blood wetting the fabric.

The warm air stills. The irresolute sunlight halts.

The entire world just…stops.

Rey is going to die with her chest atop his, hearts pressed together in one, final kiss.

When the determination finally spends, the fight is over. Her arms fall helplessly against Ben’s, the calm and forbidding world welcoming nothingness around her.


	16. sydän: the heart, part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS NOTE BEFORE CONTINUING
> 
> This is part TWO of chapter 15. If you have not read chapter 15, go back and do so. They are technically one chapter, just better when divided. 
> 
> -DCB

It’s the second time today that Ben wakes up and doesn’t realize where he is.

At first.

He awakes to the feeling of light trickling down his throat, a hypnotizing warmth that spreads from his chest, down through his heart and lungs, then to the dull, pulsing ache in his shoulder.

There’s a heavy weight on top of his chest and wetness above and below him. Ben stares directly above him, the blurring world focusing now onto the metal beams and swinging lights.

Hands reach haphazardly to his chest, curious about the substantial weight that is frankly _crushing_ his breathing.

Then his breath _truly_ stops when he feels her matted hair and crusting, dry skin.

_Rey._

Ben was shot. Ben was shot by _Hux,_ who now lays across the freezer room, face down and still breathing, unlike Rey.

_A fish out of water._

_“_ Wa-water,” Ben says to no one. Mostly to himself, to keep his sanity intact.

He stands up, shifting Rey off him carefully, which shouldn’t be possible from the sheer amount of blood loss. There’s red completely soaking his t-shirt.

Actually, his blood is _everywhere._ On the floor, mixed with the water, on Rey’s face and hands.

Ben should be dead.

But when he glances over to the ripped portion of his t-shirt and buries a few fingers through the hole, they only meet soft, smooth flesh that is unmarred.

He gathers up Rey as quickly as he can and runs out of the broken freezer room, banging elbows on the doorways and almost tripping when they leave the main marina’s garage door.

They’re at the docks, but there’s a connecting beach just down a flight of stairs beyond the flotilla. Ben takes them two a time, Rey jostling within his hold.

Her lips are white, her face is pale, and her eyes are shut.

Frantic feet pace through the sand, then finally reach the lapping waves of the ocean. Ben gently sets Rey within the wading tide, his entire lower half and arms completely submerged with her.

The rocking waves wash away the blood from their hands and her face, the events of today eroding into the water.

For many, terrible minutes Rey doesn’t move. At all.

What had she done to save him? Given up her own life, much like he did for hers?

There was a reason Ben was shot in the first place. _Rey_ was the one who deserved to live. Not him.

Ben is not typically religious, but he sure as hell is right now. He prays and prays, to a god that’s been rather cruel to their fate, wishing for any movement, any at all.

He nearly loses his breath when the color of Rey’s skin begins to return, slowly but surely, starting with her lips and cheeks until she takes a large, gulping gasp, eyes flying open.

Ben lets out a relived sign. “Thank _fucking_ god.”

Maybe someone _is_ listening.

Under the reflective surface, Rey’s eyes dart to Ben, her brows knitted in bewilderment until a smile erupts and she surges from the water, arms wrapping tightly around Ben’s neck.

“Ben!”

They collapse back into the shallow water, Rey’s clutching onto Ben for dear life.

He will never grow tired of how she calls his name.

“I thought...your heart, it _stopped_ \--How?” She leans back in his arms to search the bullet wound, just like he did.

“I-I don’t understand either. My mother use to tell me all kind of stories about the impossible, about magic and myths and things…”

His eyes lift and look down at her tail.

“…I _once_ deemed fairytales.”

Rey is still in astonishment, her fingers curling around the wet locks around Ben’s neck.

"Did you know she told me stories about mermaids quite often? I think I was rather obsessed as a child."

She just stares at him, like he's not real. Like the words he's speaking are in another language. 

Ben realizes that she's just enjoying the embrace of one another, still too relived to speak. No one is kidnapped. No one is injured. It’s finally just _them._

Jolting, Rey removes a hand from Ben and inspects her wrist, like she’d been doing for the past couple days, sighing as he raises a brow at her.

“Alright, I’ve _got_ to ask.”

“Hmn?”

“Something tells me you’re not just admiring the bracelet I bought for you.” He turns Rey’s hand up to his view. “Though I've _got_ to say it looks stunning on y- wait, where did-I thought there was _three_ initially? How’s-“

She removes her hand from his and it rises to meet Ben’s neck once again. “They are _merenneidon merkki,_ or the mermaid’s marks in your tongue.” Rey turns her head to gaze at the horizon, the late afternoon sun heavy in the sky.

“I had three sunrises to obtain a mortal’s confession. If I did so, I would become human. There’s one mark remaining: one final chance.”

Her story is oddly familiar, like Ben has heard it before. Memories from long ago of his mother talking about such things remerge to his consciousness. Now that he thinks a bit more, his mother probably knew Rey was a mermaid the entire time.

It explains why his mother didn’t want to separate them.

“So…” the clues begin to come together, “I just need to tell you I lo-“

Hands quickly close over his mouth.

_Did he say the wrong thing?_

_…again?_

“Wait-“ Rey turns back to the sun, and then to him. “We still have the remaining day and night. These will be my last moments as a mermaid.”

Her hands fall, Ben looking over in understanding.

“One last swim then?”

Rey’s grin nearly stretches to her ears.

She leans in, lips meeting his in pure bliss, rather than sadness or desperation.

“Only if you’ll accompany me _.”_

○°°°○

Rey can admit one thing: she _will_ miss swimming.

Sure, humans have the ability to swim. Many are quite fast and efficient, but no mortal will ever compare to her abilities.

They swim along the coastline, remaining below the surface the entire time no thanks to the _merenneito-suudelma,_ granting Ben the ability to breath beside her as they dive deeper and deeper, far into the watery depths of her home.

They swim far away from Portland, from Hux, from the horrors of the mortal world, until the only thing on their minds is the cerulean waves and each other.

She only stops to kiss him again and again. Feeling his warmth alongside the coolness of the water is unforgettable and nothing like the kisses on the surface.

Yes, Rey will miss certain feelings. She’ll miss the nothingness of floating. She’ll miss chasing schools of fish until her fins are exhausted and wearied. She'll miss her home.

But nothing in the vast expanse of the endless sea compares to the feeling when she’s in Ben’s arms.

For hours and hours, Rey drags Ben through the Pacific’s tide. They head in no direction. The only thing they keep track of is the light of passing time.

The water grows warmer and the coral becomes more colorful. The tell-tale sights of dawn creep through the water’s surface, purple and pink light streaking their swimming forms.

Wherever they are, where they end up, is desolate and empty. Tiny beaches line the coastal land, a few palm trees in the far distance and finer sand letting them know they’re nowhere near the cold tide of their home shore.

Their exhausted bodies trail up through the water, faces resting gently on the cool sand.

Ben is the one to break the bated silence. “ _That_ was amazing. How long have you been swimming like that?”

Rey can’t help but giggle at such an innocent reaction. The ocean has been her entire life. The water is a second skin to her.

"Five hundred years, give or take."

Ben's face is hit with shock. "Five _hundred-_ are you kidding?"

She can't help but giggle. "Nope."

" _Well,_ I've never been into cougars much, but I guess I'll make an exception this time."

Rey doesn't understand his apparent joke, but he now giggles alongside her. 

He finally looks up and inspects their surroundings. “Where are we anyways?”

“Hmm.” Rey scoops up a handful of sand, rubbing the fine silt against her skin. “Somewhere along the southern shores of the Pacific. I’m not sure. I never bothered to learn the human names for land.”

“Ah. Probably California. Can’t remember the last time I was on a Californian beach.”

Rey studies his face, his quiet smile and purple drenched eyes. Ben is _happy._

_Finally._

“It’s quiet,” he says.

“It is.”

“That’s it.” Ben reaches out and gathers her within his arms, her head pressed under his chin. “I’ve decided. We’ll live here.”

“What?”

The protest immediately begin within her mind. Ben can’t just _leave_ his entire life for her. 

“But your job a-and your mother and the cliff house and penthouses- “

“I’m leaving it. All of it.”

He pauses for a moment.

“Well, not my mother _I suppose_ , but she pounces on any opportunity to travel and visit anyways.”

“…and your job?”

Ben sighs. The decision seemed made long ago, before the incident with Hux.

“I’m quitting. The power will drop to someone who deserves it. I already had Gwen report Hux and those two thugs to the proper authorities, so I doubt we’ll ever hear from _them_ again.”

“I won’t be a slave to Snoke anymore. I have better, more deserving things in my life that require my full attention.”

Rey hums in content. “I’m glad you won’t serve under that cruel man anymore.”

He pulls away to look into Rey's hazel eyes, studying her with utmost care.

“You _truly_ care, don’t you Rey?”

Words have become a powerful thing since regaining her voice. It’s just the matter if she _wants_ to speak this time.

“I-I’ve cared about you the moment I set my eyes upon you two years ago, when I first saw you at the cliff house. I cared about the man whose loneliness overtook his entire being until he was strong enough to let go.”

Her breath hitches in her throat.

“An-and,” she stutters, “I will never stop caring. About you. Ever.”

Ben’s eyes go wide. There’s affection and longing flashing through his irises, finally understanding just _what_ he means to Rey.

They are each other’s worlds.

Large, sandy fingers carefully wipe under her eyes and Ben presses their foreheads together. The orange daybreak seeps past the cervices and curves of their bodies, casting a serrated shadow above them.

“I love you.”

The sun breaches the sky the moment Ben breaks the curse.

A light starts at her fins, then quickly overtakes her entire body, warmth spreading and enveloping every inch of her skin. It radiates and blinds them both for a few moments; Rey closing her eyes and leaning into the magic for one last time.

_Kiitos, Ved-ava._

The light dims to reveal skin now in the place of her tail and nothing on her wrist except the silver bracelet that Ben bought her.

Ben held her the entire time, not afraid of the unknown power, and his eyes slowly open to her, looking down to where a tail was just minutes ago.

“ _Wow”_ is all he can croak out.

Her heart is light and fluttering again. The pang of solitude leaves her, along with her immortality. Which is fine. 

“When I first traded my tail, I only wanted to live on dry land. I thought it was my true desire- my _only_ desire.”

Her now _permanent_ legs lift and tangle with Ben’s, fingers interlacing at his chest. “But then you had to go and make me fall _in love_ with you. I was supposed to be the one winning _your_ heart, did you know? Did you know that?”

Ben smirks down at her. “I had my suspicions. I think the red lingerie had to do with it, mostly. And maybe the several kisses after that. Or the food..?” He wiggles his eyebrows at her.

Rey laughs heartily, enjoying the relaxed moment. Laughing has not been a luxury for them recently.

Her giggle slows down as their eyes catch one another’s.

“I love you too, Ben.”

She kisses him, for the first time as a true mortal. It feels right. It feels perfect.

“For forever and ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, it's so amazing to see these dumb-dumbs finally together. 16 long chapters of pining! My goodness. 
> 
> I'm not sure when epilogue will be updated. I plan on uploading a new fic soon. It's rather dark and smutty, so keep a heads up if you're interested. 
> 
> I'll leave my thank you's and AN for the very last chapter but I do want to say now thank you!!! 
> 
> Writing this fic has been amazing and honestly life-changing. It's kept me looking forward despite hard times and I hope it's done the same for you guys as well. ❤️


	17. perhe: a family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Belive it or not, I didn't forget about this fic! I'm sorry I haven't updated since JUNE (voi paska...) but I literally couldn't write this unless I was at the beach. No joke. 
> 
> So, 4 trips to the California coast later, I bring you the epilogue! 
> 
> **CW: pregnancy, babies and a liiiitle NSFW**
> 
> Nauttia! (enjoy!)  
> DCB

_When life begins beneath the waves,_

_a spark will appear._

_Powerful, passionate and nearly unbearable,_

_a heat so hot, it sears._

_But when said light breeches the surface,_

_and everything along it hails._

_She will reach the entrance of heaven’s door,_

_and seek what lies beyond the veil._

_○°°°○_

When the gods and goddesses of the world created beauty, the ocean was the first thing that came to mind.

Everything else just followed.

At sundown, when the blinding light of the day casts a soft hue across the horizon, Rey will walk down the frail, wooden steps that connect their home to her previous one. She will watch the sun sink into the depths, awaiting the moon’s rise and fall to reawaken hours later.

The sand is warm below her feet, which have enlarged _significantly_ over the past year or so.

The orange glow rests across her face and burns her eyes a bit. It’s tantalizing but addicting. Rey never tires of the warmth.

Humans are drawn to the water just like merfolk; perhaps in a _less_ intimate way, but the pull is still irresistible and insatiable. Ben shares the exact same love she does.

Actually, they share _many_ types of loves, and discover new ones almost every day.

Cooking anything together. Long drives down the coastline rather than swims. Going to a store and bumping the cart into the other’s hip. Watching a film while holding each other.

_Making_ love. Literally.

Rey’s grown so use to her heart being full and warm that being _without_ Ben is the only time she notices.

She listens to the quiet crashing, the soft clawing of the waves that don’t understand her anymore, but still accept her. Rey patiently awaits the sound of his truck arriving and a door shutting, but it will still be a little while longer until Ben returns from his trip in New York.

“Rey!” a beckoning voice calls from the tiny, blue house above.

It’s Leia, who has generously offered to stay with Rey during the duration of Ben’s voyage. Rey does not require a babysitter, much like she did four years ago as a fresh, naïve and confused human, but in Ben’s words “ _It’s always better to be safe than sorry.”_

“Dinner is ready whenever you would like it!” The shouting is a _little_ too loud, so Rey just nods and brings a finger to her lips indicating that she can’t say anything back.

_What a horrible throwback,_ she jokes within the confines of her mind.

Rey is hungry, like usual, but this is the moment of everyday that she re-connects to a place that will never leave her mind or body. The seawater courses through her veins, even standing on bone-dry legs.

The frothy waves creep high enough to the shore and engulf Rey’s feet and shins; the feeling cold but refreshing in the hot summer hours. A stalk of seaweed wraps around her ankle when the water recedes. When she bends down carefully to untangle it, the weight hanging from her shoulders shifts forward and Rey must bring a wet, salty hand up to catch her.

The infant fast asleep wiggles her tiny nose at the damp feeling, not enough to wake but enough to yawn against her mother’s bare chest sleepily.

Rey sighs in relief.

It’s the first time in _weeks_ that Säde has successfully slept more than twenty minutes without screaming at the top of her poor lungs. Leia is probably the only reason _Rey_ has been eating, sleeping and washing. Human babies are unfamiliar to her, but not to someone who has been a mother for over thirty years.

_“I wasn’t the most…overbearing mother when Ben was young. Han was better at cheering him up when he was upset and angry,”_ Leia told her the day Säde was born, exhausted and tears drying, _“But I have learned every lesson I need to know, many much more painful than they should’ve been. And I never want you or Ben to experience that.”_

The sand is damp and cool now. Rey doesn’t mind.

Leia must have realized that no one was coming up to dinner when minutes of silence followed her call. Rey hears the back-porch door squeak open and close, and soon enough, the greying yet energetic woman is descending down the stairs that scatter the rising dune.

She joins Rey and her granddaughter, who all now watch the dipping sunset with pleasant eyes.

The sailboat docked parallel to the beach rocks softly within the waves and the lurching sound captures both woman’s attention.

“When he gets back, I wonder if Ben will take us out on the boat,” Rey whispers to Leia, “We haven’t all been sailing since I was pregnant.”

Which was almost a year ago, if Rey remembers correctly. The swaying motion of the waves made Rey _sick_ for the first time ever of her five hundred years of life, betrayed by the motion of _her_ birthplace.

Leia just hums back to the horizon. “Hmmm. He might. I know the two-or _three_ of us may be able to convince him. That boy bends to any female in this family with brown eyes and a smile.”

They both giggle and agree at the sentiment which is absolutely true. But the rumbling wakes up Säde, whose brown-doe eyes open and blink up to her mother.

“Oh, _voi paska,”_ Rey mutters under her breath.

She shushes the cries to the best of her abilities but it’s to no avail. Säde is awake and is determined to let the entire world and ocean _know_ she is unhappy. What she’s unhappy about? Rey never knows. But Leia always does.

Loosening the wrap from her shoulder, back and chest, Säde is released from her mother’s chest and promptly handed to her grandmother, who receives her with open arms every time. The fabric is tossed up to the dry shore and Rey watches as Leia soothes the baby with inaudible words and soft touches.

Rey stands, watching, completely bare from the skirt up. He mother in law became… _familiar_ with Rey’s likes and dislikes of human habits, clothing being very, very high on said dislike list. Especially with the baby being fed as often as she does, there is no use for a cover. And Leia doesn’t even blink twice at her bare breast and stomach now.

The crying slows, but the tears and hiccuping don’t.

“Here,” Rey motions back to herself, “maybe I need to feed her.”

But Säde doesn’t latch. And she wiggles spastically in her mother’s arms.

This is the first time in weeks Säde has been so close to the water. Maybe she’s crying for the same reason Rey sometimes will: the yearn for the ocean.

It’s a natural pull. Ben has it too, and Rey believes it’s runs through the tiny girl’s blood as well. She holds Säde a bit closer so she’s flush to her chest once again, and Rey trails down the shore, further and further, until she’s completely engulfed to her ribs.

The water is calm and cool. It’s foreign and home together. A place of life and death.

Säde’s cries all but stop. The water laps against her back and tickles the soft mop of midnight hair atop her head. The same sense of peace must be overtaking her, much like it does her mother, or perhaps it’s the voice of _Ved-Ava_ , calling for calmness beyond the breaches of the shore.

_“Olet löytänyt kotisi verhon takaa, lapsi.”_

It’s a voice so low and faint, that Rey at first believes it’s a fantasy, but a sudden light that is not the sun gleams in a single moment, lighting the faces of a creature no longer from the seas and her child; a child that proves that a collision of worlds will foster much more than just pain.

Säde is back asleep, and the women use the opportunity to head back up the creaky steps and dry off, Rey finally sitting and eating her first meal of the day, exhausted and eyes peering through the glass windows of her home.

○°°°○

He had a late flight anyways, but delays are really the worst.

It’s nearly 3 am in the morning when the front finally opens and closes, his heavy steps attempting to tip toe through a house older than himself. Ben obviously does not want to wake a single fast asleep soul.

The doorknob twists, his shadow overtaking the moonlit room.

He smells of soap and mint when Ben merely shucks his shoes and creeps slowly into bed. Rey had kept her eyes closed, attempting to sleep, but alas it was nearly impossible when awaiting someone who’s been gone for nearly two weeks.

Ben wraps large and warm arms around her bare chest. She sighs with the relief of _finally_.

“You’re home,” Rey whispers to cool air of the night.

He doesn’t respond, but rather pulls her in tighter, instead trailing soft kisses down from her forehead and then to her lips. Lips that are now free from any spell. Free to speak, to love and to kiss.

It is still quite late though, and while Ben oh so desperately attempts to deepen the kiss, Rey has not slept well since his departure. Paired with Säde’s typical 6 am tantrums, Rey and Leia were getting shut eye for only a few hours each day.

And their daughter is currently sleeping. And hopefully will be until the sun crests over the ocean’s horizon once more.

They have time.

Just not yet.

“Until morning, Rey,” he murmurs to her batting eyelashes. “Go back to sleep.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice.

○°°°○

Leia, being the absolute gods’ send that she is, rises first in the morning to Säde’s cries. The tiny girl knows her grandmother almost as closely as her own mother and thankfully calms, assured she’s in the right hands.

Her parents wake and yawn, limbs stretching after an entire night of being wrapped around each other. Slight traces of sweat still dry on Rey’s forehead since her husband is a very large, and thus, very _warm_ man who is acutely unaware of just how much body heat he radiates.

“How was Luke?” Rey finally speaks after minutes of watching the sun rise.

Ben sighs and rubs hands down his face. He avoids speaking about work whenever he’s home, but this extended business trip was irregular and the longest time he’s ever been away from Rey and Säde. “Fine. Luke is just…himself. He wants to come and visit once the UNHCR case wraps up.”

After their move to the small beach town of Cambria, California, Ben forgone his entire life of greedy businesses and men who wanted nothing more than to watch you shrivel and die. Snoke passed almost three years ago, Hux has yet to be found but rumors say he’s running a bar in the Midwest, and Gwen currently holds the position of CEO at First Order Trade.

“For a man who does nothing but mentor children, you’d think the last thing he would want to do is see an _infant_ child,” Rey half-jokes, still baffled by the line of work Luke, and now Ben, follow.

He laughs tenderly, still to this day amazed by what a mermaid would consider normal and not.

“I think meeting his own family is a little different.”

Rey turns her body back to him and nuzzles into his neck. He’s still wearing his travel clothes and pants, and there’s nothing more Rey wants to do than take them off.

“Speaking of family…”

She lifts a leg over his torso and begins to pull on the collar of his heathered shirt.

“She cried for you every day,” Rey hushes, memories of daily fits haunting her.

Large palms run up her thighs, then onto her waist where baggy pants hang low to her hip bones. Although Rey prefers skirts and has likened them since the years of becoming human, Leia had asked for basic modesty after her swim yesterday and all her other skirts are waiting to be washed, still smelling of salt and sand.

Ben must get the message because he rises just enough to reach above his head and remove the shirt. His wife is met with a perfect view of a chest, not quite as muscular or firm as prior years. “ _Dad bod_ ,” he called it in his defense.

His eyes soften up at her, the beginning’s day glow lighting from behind like a goddess. Although she is not immortal or even a being of magic no more, she is still otherworldly to Ben.

“I won’t leave you two for that long ever again. It nearly killed me,” Ben whispers. And while his words appear dramatic, Rey knows fully in her heart that leaving for New York was the single hardest thing he’d done since they moved. Her hands slowly creep up his chest to meet around his neck, her lips gracing his nose, then check, then finally meeting his in tandem, the world put on a standstill of euphoria and silence.

Rey can’t help but moan when his head leaves the pillow to meet hers, his hands holding her cheeks as tenderly as possible. They know time is a precious commodity in these moments, so they’re rather quick to undress and touch. These few minutes should be used for something other than just kissing.

He takes her roughly. It’s passionate and unforgiving, the weeks of longing setting through their muscles and bones. Rey has no shame in any element; she cries out over and over again, her voice echoing in their shared room.

Ben’s no better, even with his own mother only paces away. He muffles his cries into her skin below her breast, still incredibly swollen from nursing. They’re both incoherent towards the end, which is usual, Rey’s entire body seizing as the hours, days and weeks of separation are finally satisfied.

All that’s left is to breathe and start their day. Together, like always.

○°°°○

Leia has already prepared an entire breakfast when they dress and meet in the kitchen, Säde back asleep in her nursery. His mother makes no comment about the morning’s… _activities_ , but she does ask about his flight and Luke.

It’s the meal they can eat in peace. Rey eats triple of what everyone else does, the mix of hormones and breastfeeding still urging large mouthfuls of waffles and eggs. Säde is no joke when it comes to eating as well, and Rey knows the minute her daughter wakes up, she’ll be hungry.

“I want to go wake her up,” Ben says across the table, the two women darting their eyes up to him, crazed.

“I _just_ got her back to bed,” Leia grits, “You should be lucky that she let us sleep until 6 today.”

Ben just scrunches his face and continues to eat in peace, his hand resting on Rey’s thigh below the table. There appears to be a debate within his mind, like he’s trying to decide whether to shoot his hand or foot.

Abruptly, he stands up from his chair and sets his fork down. “I’m going to grab Säde,” he declares, while both women protest his each and every step. And when they hear her nursery door creak open, Rey expects the cries to start instantaneously, but instead, Ben reenters the room, Säde still dozing in the arms of her father.

She’s a rather small thing compared to the enormous forearms and hands of Ben. It’s comical, the absolute size difference, almost like Säde is just a doll.

It’s a wistful and bittersweet feeling, knowing that her family will never be one with the sea, like Rey was. But when she gazes upon Ben and Säde, Rey knows the right choice was made all those years ago. The moments peering up through the glass balcony, awaiting a man she knew nothing about but loved nonetheless, crash like waves though her memory.

And when Ben smiles up to her, Rey smiles back. Because they know.

They’ll never be alone ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact! Säde means 'ray of light' in Finnish. I feel like that's very fitting, no?
> 
> Thank you so much to my many wonderful readers. This fic truly jumpstarted my Reylo creatives and have made me the writer I am now. I read each and every comment, and I straight up cried during the last update. I will miss this story so much, but it feels wonderful to wrap it up. Thank you all again so much. 
> 
> If you are at all interested in reading some of my other works, here's a brief list of them: 
> 
> [Lemon Eyes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25078705/chapters/60748165) (E, super smutty, literally no plot)
> 
> [crossroads](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25782328/chapters/62619382) (E, dark fic with mindfuck ending)
> 
> [The Maid and Mr. Rockefeller](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25462033/chapters/61760578) (M, maid in manhattan Au, super cheesy and fun)
> 
> [Web Chat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26559055) (M, a funny one-shot based off a twitter prompt) 
> 
> ❤️ Love,  
> Chaney AKA  
> Dachenabritta


End file.
